


Happily Ever After

by SirJoker



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Humor, Romance, Whouffaldi baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 20:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15781281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirJoker/pseuds/SirJoker
Summary: Clara and John Smith are happily married and enjoying life as a couple, but when they find out they’re expecting a baby, their marriage will be put to the test.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the new story! :) I hope you'll have a wonderful time reading the first chapter. Enjoy!
> 
>   
>    
> 

John Smith had had a tiring day. The hospital had been busier than usual today with several people being brought into the emergency room after a serious accident in the M25. Most of the patients only suffered mild injuries but a young girl no older than nine years old was brought in, barely alive with a piece of rod stuck in her chest, just below her heart.

The operation proved to be tricky and difficult, but John managed to pull through and save the girl, despite facing complication after complication. The girl would live to see another day. That was all that mattered. The girl was alive, and he would call it a good day despite wanting to just run away to someplace quiet for a week or two. That would be nice.

Life as a surgeon, however, does not grant him such luxury. Maybe he really should just seriously consider becoming a consultant surgeon. At least the workload will be reduced a bit.

John looked up and noticed that the sky had become darker. It would seem rain is imminent. He picked up his pace as rain started pouring down from above, washing the streets of London.

Why on earth did he decide to take the tube today instead of driving like he normally would? Maybe he was just getting tired of the same old routine.

He was lost in his thought until his left foot kicked a heavy object that was lying on the ground. John looked down at his own two feet before he spotted a black note and instantly reached for it so that it wouldn't get wet.

The surgeon took shelter underneath a tree before he opened the notebook and landed in the middle of the book. He squinted his eyes. Time machine, 'Daleks', 'Cyberman', the Doctor finds himself in Skaro… It all sounded like a sci-fi novel.

It was then John reminded the contents of the notebook was none of his business and immediately checked the front page to see if the owner had left their details.

Luckily, they did. It looks like a Clara Oswald is writing a sci-fi novel.

John reached down into his pocket to fish out his phone before dialling the number scribbled on the page. It took several seconds before the call was answered.

"Is this Clara Oswald?" John said through the phone, taking shelter underneath a different tree. It had started raining heavily and he regretted not bringing an umbrella with him. The notebook which he hid in the pocket of his jacket to protect from the rain was now in his hand again as he checked the name and number once more.

"Yes," answered Clara on the other end of the line. "Is this about my notebook – did you find it?"

"Yeah, found it by the side of the street," he answered. "Do you live close by – I found your notebook in Shoreditch."

"I live in Shoreditch," she replied. "Where are you?"

John looked around and said, "Bevenden Street."

"I live just ten minutes away – I'll be there soon," she said.

He interrupted her before she could end the call. "No, it's raining – if I stay here any longer I'll be soaking wet – where do you live?" he asked, wiping his face dry of the rainwater. His hair felt damp.

Clara gave him the address and he quickly made his way there.

John Smith would have preferred to be home by now, kicking his feet up and enjoying a nice, hot cup of tea, but he couldn't just leave the notebook by the side of the street nor bring it with him home when the owner lives close by.

He finally found the building he was looking for and spotted a beautiful woman with brown hair and large eyes scanning around the area as she stood by the entrance of the building. That must be Clara.

He walked past the gates, dripping wet before she finally spotted him. A guilty and sheepish look was plastered on her face.

"Clara Oswald?" John asked.

"Yep, that would be me," she replied, smiling kindly at him as they stepped into the reception area.

He then produced the notebook from his coat and handed it to her. "You're lucky I found this before it started raining."

"Thank you so much," she said sincerely, holding the notebook close to her chest. She scanned him from head to toe. He was staring at her intently with those bushy eyebrows of his and could have sworn they had a life of their own. Nonetheless, she could see the kindness behind those blue eyes. "I'm sorry you had to go through the trouble of finding me and getting yourself drenched."

He shrugged, about to take his leave when Clara said, "Just wait here one second and I'll get you your reward."

John raised his eyebrows. "That won't be necessary," he explained. "I didn't do it for the reward."

She had been pondering whether she should invite him to her flat and offer him a cup of tea. After all, this man had saved her life's work and it was the least she could do. Besides, he doesn't look like a serial killer. "Could I at least offer you tea?" she asked. "It's still raining outside."

The surgeon thought of his options for a moment. He was cold and wet. He didn't feel like walking the in rain again.

Clara saw the hesitation in his eyes. "It's the least I could do," she reasoned and smiled when she saw the resignation in his eyes.

"Alright," he sighed. "I'm not keen on getting my suit wet."

John followed Clara up the staircase to her flat which was located in the corner of the hallway. Her flat was quite cramped, but he could see that she had made the best of her space and the flat even had a cosy vibe to it.

"Make yourself at home," she said, disappearing into the kitchen while John discarded his coat and hung it on the hanger.

A small bookshelf rested against the wall, next to where the sofa and armchair were located. In middle sat the coffee table which had a stack of papers lying on top. No doubt that Clara is an author.

He approached the sofa and settled down before taking a closer look at the papers. The top pile said 'Year 8 English, Class 8A'.

Or maybe she wasn't an author after all.

"I think you can tell I'm an English teacher," she said lightly, bringing two cups of tea with her.

John was torn out of his thoughts and thanked her as she handed him his drink. "I was sure that you were an author," he commented. "Not that I was going through your notes or anything – I was looking for your personal details when I stumbled some of your notes about the Doctor," he added hastily.

Clara giggled, blushing. "Well, this is embarrassing," she muttered. It then occurred to the school teacher that she never got the stranger's name. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"John, John Smith," he answered. "And what's there to be embarrassed about?"

He took a sip of the tea.

The notes and ideas she had written for a sci-fi novel were nothing more than just ideas. No one would actually read them. "Let's be honest here, it sounds silly."

"What's wrong with silly?" he questioned, granting her a small smile. "I think the idea sounds interesting – the Doctor stealing a time machine, what was it called?"

"The TARDIS."

"Yes, the TARDIS."

Clara grimaced. "They're just silly ideas I was playing around with," she said quietly.

John stared at the cup. "Believe me, you should give it a shot," he encouraged, smiling. "I'm not one for sci-fi but I wouldn't mind reading your story."

The school teacher's face finally lit up. "Well, I would have to write something first before I even consider publishing it," she laughed.

"It'll be worth it."

"You sound as if you're talking from experience," she teased.

John's eyes widened before let out a coughed. "No, no, I don't write stories or books, or anything like that," he said quietly.

Clara couldn't help but notice the dark suit he was wearing. It looked expensive and screamed high quality. "Are you a lawyer?" she guessed.

He chuckled at the question. "Nope, not a lawyer."

She racked her brain for another suggestion. John had like a professor vibe to him. "Professor?"

"No, but you're getting warmer."

"You're a doctor!" she said.

He gave her a nodded politely. "Congratulations on guessing correctly, Miss Oswald."

"What sort of a doctor are you, Dr Smith?" she asked curiously. Clara guessed he had to be a specialist.

"Please, call me John, only my patients call me Dr Smith," John stated as he glanced at her shyly as if he was embarrassed to tell her his actual career. "I'm a cardiovascular surgeon."

She raised her eyebrows, impressed. "At least I got the surgeon guessing right."

He arched a brow, finishing the tea. "What was your initial guess?"

"Neurosurgeon."

"To be fair, I did consider specialising in that, but I thought that my current speciality suited me better," he explained.

The two continued chatting for another hour until John decided to glance at the window. The rain had finally stopped. A part of him felt relieved while the other part dreaded ending the conversation. Clara is surprisingly a joy to talk with.

The school teacher followed his gaze and to her disappointment, the skies were clear. "The rain has stopped."

"Indeed, it has," he answered, voice much lower. John set down the empty cup on the coffee table, careful to keep it away from the marked homework assignments. "Thank you very much for your hospitality."

"It was the least I could do for returning my notebook," she answered, beaming.

He nodded before he stared at his hands, cleared his throat and got up. "I should be going now."

Clara followed him to the door and just before he stepped outside, he turned around. There was a twinkle in his eyes.

"You will consider writing a book, right?" he asked, grinning.

The teacher laughed at his question, nodding. "Yes, I will make a serious consideration, no thanks to you."

"Well, if it comes to that, be sure to thank me," he joked, taking his coat. John looked much younger when he smiled.

"I will be sure to thank John Smith, the kind stranger who went through the trouble of delivering my notebook to me, while it was raining."

There was a voice at the back of John's voice that told him to ask Clara out, maybe for coffee or dinner. He wanted to see her again. She wasn't like any other woman he had met. As he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, he felt the tickets his colleague and best friend, Martha Jones, had given him.

She had complained that he wasn't spending enough time outdoors, let alone socialising, and had handed him two tickets to 'The Play That Goes Wrong'. Apparently, Martha had won those but didn't have the luxury of watching the show as her shift conflicted with the dates on the tickets.

Maybe he finally found a use for them instead of planning to give them away to someone else.

John stepped out, glancing at her shyly again. "It was nice meeting you, Clara Oswald."

She beamed. "It was a pleasure meeting you, too, John Smith."

He nodded, mustering up the courage to ask her out. "Listen, my friend gave me two tickets to this new show," he explained. "It's a comedy and I have to use them by Saturday next week – would you like to join me?"

The school teacher blinked a couple of times before she realised John was asking her out on a date. A grin formed on her lips. "I've heard great things about that show."

The surgeon never felt so relieved. "Fantastic," he said. "I'll pick you up this Saturday, then, at say, six?"

"Yes, six it is," she confirmed, standing by the door.

He nodded. "See you then."

As he began walking, Clara called out his name and he turned around. She ran up to him, got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you for returning my notebook," she whispered before returning to her flat while stood in the middle of the hallway, mouth slightly agape as he touched his cheek.

Clara wasn't able to wipe off the smile from her face for the rest of the day. She had been so worried when she realised her notebook had gone missing. Maybe it wasn't so bad she lost it after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! Let's see what's become of our favourite couple :)

_Four Years Later…_

Clara Smith poured herself a glass of orange juice while she held her smartphone in her free hand, checking her emails. It was Monday morning and things were and would surely get busy. There were twenty emails in her work inbox, most of which were concerning her books. She had published two books in the past three years, under the pen name 'C. Oswald'. Now, she was working on her third book.

Clara took a seat by the table before she put her phone away, taking a sip of her drink. Breakfast was laid out, but she didn't want to eat just yet as she waited for her husband to get dressed.

"Clara," John called from upstairs, rolling the 'r' in her name. She smiled as she knew that he was about to ask her opinion on something. "Which tie should I wear today – the blue and gold stripes or just the black and red?"

"What shirt are you wearing?" she replied, picturing her husband standing in front of the bed with the ties laid out, hands on his hips.

"Light blue."

"Go with the blue and gold," she suggested, smiling.

"Thank you, darling," he yelled back.

Clara couldn't help but grin before she continued to read her emails. A minute later, her husband strode into the kitchen, wearing a black suit with a light blue shirt and the tie she had chosen.

John bent down and kissed her head before he grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards. He poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting next to his wife, grabbing a piece of toast.

He then realised his wife by smiling at him, causing him to laugh. "What?"

"Nothing," she said coyly, taking a bite of a hash brown. "Just thought you look handsome in that suit."

"Am I not always handsome?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Don't be full of yourself," she stated, placing a hand on his thigh.

So much had happened in the past four years since they had first met. They started dating after that eventful night, Clara published her first book a year later and it turned out to be a huge success which made her decide to become a full-time author, John proposed to her and they got married in a beautiful and small wedding ceremony in his hometown in Glasgow, and now here they were, a little over a year into their marriage.

"Why else did you agree to marry me?" he countered, giving her a boyish grin. "Besides, I recall you saying some very nice things about me a few months ago," he added suggestively.

They had spent their first wedding anniversary in the Maldives just two months ago. Two weeks of just them spending time with each other. No hospitals, patients or publishers to bother them. Just a married couple on holiday.

Clara pecked him on the cheek. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Dr Smith," she said innocently, standing up to put her dish in the sink. "I think it was you who kept rambling on about me, just three days ago."

He finished his meal before rising to his feet and standing behind his wife wrapping his arms around her. "Would you like me to remind you?" he whispered huskily, kissing her neck.

Clara moaned in approval before she remembered the happy news she was going to break to him later in the day. "I think you're the one who needs to be reminded," she murmured before turning around in his arms. "But you have to leave for work or you're going to be late."

He pursed his lips mockingly. "Shame, tonight then," he said, kissing her.

His wife smiled. He had no idea what he was in for. "I am very much looking forward to tonight," she whispered before placing her hands on his chest. "Now, Dr Smith, you should leave before your patients wonder where you are."

"I wish I had a TARDIS," he grumbled.

"You're not the only one," she added.

John bent down and kissed her one more time. "Love you," he murmured before freeing her from his embrace and grabbing his messenger bag on the sofa in the living room.

"I love you, too," she replied, watching him enter the car. She waved at him as he drove off.

\-- 

"Don't you look particularly joyful today," Martha Jones commented as she joined her colleague at the reception desk.

John lowered his head as he read the report in his hands, hiding the smile that played on his lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Martha," he mumbled.

"I think I should point out that the whole hospital can see that ridiculous grin on your face," she teased before requesting the receptionist behind the desk to hand her a file.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked his best friend, finally looking up and lowering the tablet.

"It's been obvious since the day you got married," she stated, chuckling. "Anyway, what do you think of the new system?" she asked, changing the subject and nodding to the tablet John held.

"It's good, I can't really complaint yet – it's a lot easier to get or submit information about a patient," he explained, when the tablet beeped.

"Thank God for technology," she added.

"Couldn't agree more," he mumbled as he read the message that was just received. One of his younger patients needed him, or rather, the parents requested to meet him. "I have to go."

"Don't wipe that grin off your face!" Martha said before she herself left to do her rounds.

"Yeah," John answered, not really paying attention before he disappeared into the corner.

The moment he reached the ward, he was greeted by the sight of the patient's parents comforting him as he cried.

They were careful to not get in the way of the wires that were attached to the child.

"Hello, Marcus," John greeted softly. "Why are you crying?"

The father of the boy spoke. "He got nervous about the operation," he explained. "We had been trying to tell him that he would be asleep during the procedure."

The surgeon had to choose his words carefully. "Your father's right, Marcus," he explained. "You're going to be fast asleep while I replace your heart."

"It's going to hurt," he whined, tears streaming down his face. "What if I die?"

He couldn't possibly promise that there would be a 100 percent success rate. There was always a possibility that the child might die, no matter how little it might be. The organ was going to be delivered in two hours and the boy would be prepped for surgery immediately. If he wasn't ready for it, then they would run into a higher risk of facing complications.

The wall behind the bed was decorated with dozens of drawings. Some were Batman, some Spiderman but John's sharp eyes caught sight of a drawing of the TARDIS in the lower right corner.

"Like your mum and dad said," the surgeon began. "You will be sound asleep during the operation and you trust me don't you, Marcus?"

He had known Marcus Jameson for about seven years now. The boy had been born with a hole in his heart and he had been lucky enough to have found a matching donor. John couldn't let the chance of him living a long and fulfilling life slip away.

The surgeon saw the hesitation and uncertainty in his eyes. "You're a fan of superheroes, aren't you?" he asked, despite knowing the answer.

"Yes."

"Who's your favourite?"

"The Doctor."

The surgeon smiled. "I can see why you drew a picture of the TARDIS there," he commented, and the boy nodded. "Can I count on you to be brave like the Doctor – just look at it this way, you're going to regenerate, just like what happened to him."

"Ok," Marcus finally said, sniffing.

"Fantastic," John said. "Just keep that in mind, yeah, Doctor?"

The boy finally smiled, and the parents were beyond relieved.

As expected, the organ arrived and John, along with his team, made the necessary preparations.

Now, John Smith stood in the operation room, with a junior doctor acting as his assistant. They had been in the OR for almost four hours. John had just stitched the new heart into place. The room was now completely silent as everyone waited for the heart to begin beating. Rory Williams stared at the large screen, monitoring the readings.

The doctors and nurses held their breaths until the heart began beating after what felt like an eternity.

"Bill," John called to the junior doctor, relief present in his tone. "Would you like to do the honours and stitch him up?"

They switched places and he monitored her work. "That's perfect," he commented once she was done closing Marcus' small chest.

"Thank you, Dr Smith," she stated, smiling behind the mask.

An hour later, John observed his patient silently, waiting for the boy's parents to be brought into the intensive care unit.

"Dr Smith," the father greeted quietly.

"How's my baby boy?" the mother asked.

The surgeon smiled. "He will be just fine, the operation was a success," he explained, feeling exhaustion creep up. "It's standard procedure to put patients in the ICU after a heart transplant."

"Thank you so much," Mr Jameson said, shaking hands. "Thank you for saving my son's life."

"And for convincing him to continue with the operation," Mrs Jameson added.

John nodded before he excused himself. It was another good day and he couldn't wait to return home and see his wife.

\-- 

Clara set down the mug she held next to the computer before her fingers began typing on the keyboard. She was working on the new book, which was halfway done. Her publisher had phoned her earlier in the day to ask if they could have a meeting and get an update on her progress. They had agreed to have lunch together in two days time.

As she kept looking back and forth between her notes and computer, the writer heard the front door click and her eyes immediately glanced at the time. John was home and a wide smile formed on her lips. She was going to tell him the news. It brought a warm feeling in her chest as she placed a hand on her stomach.

She left the study and walked up to her husband who looked as if he was ready to sleep for three days straight. "Hello, you," she said, about to peck him on the lips when he wrapped his arms around her and snogged her senseless.

"I did not see that coming," she laughed, once they pulled away. "Is everything alright?"

Clara knew the answer. It was either his day went terribly bad or he just had performed another successful surgery and is extremely exhausted.

"Brilliant but I just miss you a lot," he murmured, placing his hands on her hips. "How was your day?"

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, and my day had been spent writing the new book," she replied. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," he replied as she led him to the kitchen. "The heart transplant lasted four hours."

"So you haven't had anything, then?" she asked, taking out a few ingredients from the fridge.

John opened the cupboard and pulled out several plates. "Nope, just some light snacks."

"Hey, no helping – you look like you're ready to sleep like a rock."

He kissed her cheek. "I owe you one," he murmured before leaving the kitchen and collapsing on the sofa in the living room. He loosened his tie and took off his jacket.

"Did I tell you Marcus is a fan of your work?"

"You did," she answered, smiling.

"He had second thoughts about the operation earlier today," her husband continued, eyes closed, shifting to get into a more comfortable position.

"What did you say?"

The smell of stir-fried chicken filled his nostrils and John smiled. "Told him he needed to be as brave as the Doctor."

His wife smiled as she continued cooking dinner. Less than ten minutes later, the couple were seated next to each at the table, eating their meal.

Clara had been anticipating the moment she would break the news to him all day now, regardless of her calm composure.

They had started trying about three months ago. The idea of having children had been discussed prior to their marriage but because they were so busy with their work, they decided to wait until John had been promoted to consultant surgeon while Clara finished her book tour around the UK. Now that they had more free time, she had thought it would be the perfect opportunity to have a child.

"Dinner was lovely," John whispered to her ear. They had settled on the sofa and were now watching a drama on the TV. "I'll be sure to make you breakfast in bed this weekend."

"Looking forward to it," his wife murmured. She had her head rested on his shoulder while she drew circles on his chest. "John."

"Hmm?"

"I have something to tell you," she said and smiled as she lifted her head.

"Are you finally going to tell me who the Impossible Girl is and why she's everywhere in the Doctor's time stream?" he asked, grinning.

"Better than that," she whispered.

Her husband straightened his back but kept his arm around her. "Well, what is it?"

Clara bit her lower lip before she grabbed his right hand and placed it on her stomach. "I'm pregnant."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! :) Let's see how John reacts to the news

John blinked once before his brain finally processed Clara's word. She had told him she's pregnant. She's pregnant. "You're pregnant," he stated, eyes wide.

"I am pregnant," she confirmed happily, caressing his hand with her thumb. He still looked so shocked and dumbfounded that she had to call his name again to get his attention. "I found out yesterday."

"I, um, I… I don't know what to say," he stammered, feeling fear building up in his chest.

His wife leaned back slightly, brows furrowed. "You look really uncomfortable right now – are you sure you're ok?" she asked in concern. The last time she had seen him like this was when a family member came into the conversation. It was a sensitive issue and Clara didn't want to spoil the mood.

John forced a smile, pushing away the fear and gently grasping her hand. "I am fine," he lied. "Just tired, but that's brilliant news!"

She stared at him for a moment and her husband raised his eyebrows. Finally, a smile finally formed on her lips. Clara leaned closer and pecked him on the lips. "It is," she said, brushing the voice at the back of her mind that told her something wasn't right. "I'm two months pregnant."

"Two months?" he repeated, caressing her stomach. While John was happy with the idea of having a child, he was terrified of becoming a father. What if he ended up being a rubbish one? He could see how brilliant of a mother Clara would be but him? What if he was just like his…

"I guess it was worth the trip," she murmured, snapping her husband out of his thoughts.

He grinned, remembering the two weeks they spent together. "It was worth every penny – wouldn't mind going there again."

"I think you just want to be away from work," she snorted.

"With you," he added.

Clara became serious once more. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. "You're happy, right?"

John laughed, gently cupping her hand. "Of course, I am – we talked about this, haven't we?" he stated.

"Alright – I'm glad you are," she said before changing the subject. "I'm going to call dad now."

"And I will call mum," he murmured, smiling.

Clara then got up. "I can't imagine how happy she'll be."

He watched her walk up the steps before he dropped the smile. John ran a hand through his silver curls before telling himself he was overreacting. They wanted children. He wanted children. He was sure of that. But being a father was a completely different issue.

Silently, he got on his feet and grabbed the jacket hanging on the armrest before fishing for his phone. His mother hadn't brought up the idea of grandchildren that often, but she would surely be pleased to know she was going to be a grandmother.

John walked into his study and dialled a number.

"Hello," answered an old woman on the other end softly.

"Hi mum," he greeted, smiling.

"John, what a pleasant surprise," Claire Smith said happily. "I wasn't expecting a call from you today."

"How are you?" he asked, plopping down on the leather chair.

"Oh, you know me, same old, same old," she stated. "How about you – how's Clara – I miss the both of you."

"We're fine," he said. "It's the reason I actually called you."

While John wasn't able to see his mother, he could tell she was beaming. "And what would that reason be?"

He cleared his throat. "Clara's pregnant."

"That's wonderful news!" Claire exclaimed. "Oh, I finally get to have a grandchild - how many months?"

"Two."

Her enthusiasm died down a bit when she didn't hear anything else from her only son. "John?"

"Yeah, I'm here, sorry," he replied, massaging the back of his neck.

Claire knew her son all too well. "John, you are going to be a wonderful father – the both of you are going to be brilliant parents."

The surgeon got up before he went to the door and shut it quietly so that Clara wouldn't overhear anything he was saying. "I don't know, mum… I…"

"John," his mother said sternly. "You listen to me, you and Clara are in love, that's the difference and I thought you wanted children?"

"I do," he answered. "But I didn't expect it to be so soon… we only started trying a few months ago."

Claire sighed. "John, your fears are unfounded – I've seen how you interact with children before," she explained. "And it's never too soon, you've been married for over a year now."

"I just don't want to end up like him," John confessed.

"You won't – look at yourself," she said. "You love your job, you're living a good life and you love your wife very much, the two of you just can't get enough of each other."

Finally, he chuckled. "Everyone keeps saying that."

"Because it's true and now you're about to have a child."

When Claire didn't hear a word from John, she continued.

"You and Clara will be great parents, know that."

He sighed before nodding. "Alright."

"Have you talked to Clara?"

"About what?"

"About your ridiculous fears."

Once more, he cleared his throat. "No, I… I prefer to keep it to myself – I don't like talking about him."

Claire shook her head. "You should, she's your wife."

"Maybe I will," he stated. He never hid anything from Clara and had told her about his estranged father only once and that was it. He hated talking about him as it only reminded John of the painful past. "I'll call you again soon, yeah, mum?"

"Yes, I always anticipate a call from you or Clara – I wish you were here right now."

"Me, too… bye, mum."

"Bye, John."

John hung up and placed the phone on the desk. His mother was right. He is nothing like his father. Maybe they should visit her this weekend.

At that moment, the door creaked open and his wife stuck her head in, a grin plastered on her face. "Hello, you."

"Hello, Mrs Smith."

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of being called that," she commented before entering the room. "I spoke to dad – he's thrilled and is coming to London this weekend – he's still not sure if nan is coming along."

Her husband smiled at her as she sat down on his lap. "I imagine more people will be visiting us once they hear the news," he said. "Mum sounded really happy."

"We haven't seen her in a while," Clara said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Maybe we can travel to Glasgow next week – stay there for the weekend?"

"Yeah, I agree," he murmured, placing both hands on her waist. She was so good at reading him that he wondered if she was still thinking about his strange behaviour earlier. "We could surprise her."

His wife pushed him back against the chair gently. "So, about that 'reminder', this morning, I think it's only appropriate we celebrate."

John grinned. Despite feeling exhausted, he still remembered their banter from earlier in the day. "I'm not complaining," he said before Clara kissed him.

\-- 

John waited patiently for the coffee machine to pour him his drink into the empty cup. It was a busy Tuesday morning and he had three junior doctors to supervise in an hour.

Martha Jones walked into the break room, holding a mug in her hand when she spotted her best friend. He looked as if he hadn't had a good sleep. "You look terrible."

He glared at his colleague before grabbing the cup and taking a seat behind the table. "Didn't get much sleep," he mumbled, slowly sipping his drink.

"I could tell," she said before joining. "What's wrong?"

He knitted his eyebrows. "Nothing."

Martha had known John since she had started working at the hospital almost ten years ago. They had become the best of friends very quickly. "You're a terrible liar."

John snorted before he remembered that Martha is an obstetrician. Clara would probably book an appointment with her soon. Besides, she is his best friend and deserves to know. "I was just busy last night," he explained smugly before changing the subject. "Anyway, I think it's only appropriate to share the news – Clara is pregnant."

A look of shock washed over her face before it was replaced with that of joy. "Oh my God!"

"Calm down," he grumbled. "She hasn't given birth yet."

"Well, excuse me, I'm going to be an aunt!" she exclaimed.

"Seven months from now," he stated dryly.

Martha giggled. "Won't have to wait for long then."

Her colleague said nothing as he continued drinking the coffee.

"I could still remember the day I saw that stupid grin plastered on your face," Martha began.

John groaned. "Please don't – I'm sure everyone in this hospital, including the patients, know that I owe you for giving me those tickets."

"I made the right call to tell you to find a date, didn't I?"

"To be fair, if I hadn't stumbled upon the notebook, I would have given the tickets to someone else."

Martha punched his arm, laughing. "It's a good thing you did then."

At that moment, Rory walked into the room, a confused expression on his face. "What's going on?"

John looked up, eyes red, curly hair a lot wilder than usual and face unshaven.

"Jesus, you look like you didn't sleep at all."

The surgeon rolled his eyes. "I had a good reason, not to – Clara's pregnant."

Rory's face lit up and he grinned. "Welcome to fatherhood, John."

"Thanks," he said sincerely. It was funny how their wives were best friends, even before John had known Clara and it was even more awkward when he met one of his staff at a private dinner party.

"You'll be getting more of that look once the baby is born," the Rory stated. "I bet Amy's going to be thrilled when she finds out."

The three friends started laughing. Amy Pond would be more than thrilled. She would be ecstatic.

\-- 

Clara Smith browsed through the menu in one corner of the café as she waited for her best friend to arrive. Amy had texted her earlier to tell her that she would be running a bit late due to the court case prolonging a bit longer than expected.

Five minutes later, Amy Williams-Pond entered the café in a hurry. "I hope you didn't have to wait long," she sighed as she plopped down in the seat opposite of her best friend.

Clara smiled. "Don't worry about it, I just got here," she said before setting down the menu. "Is it another tough one?"

Amy squared her shoulders as she reached for the menu. "Not really, the only reason it was so long was that we had to wait for an hour for the witness to arrive," she explained before changing the subject. "So, what brings us here today?"

The author shrugged innocently. "Thought it would be nice to have a chat with my best friend."

The lawyer knew that something was up. She had known Clara Oswald for more than a decade to know that she was hiding something. "Really, did we just become friends five seconds ago?"

"Let's order first," Clara suggested.

Amy beamed before she signalled the waiter. Her mind was already making several guesses. They gave their orders and once the server was gone, Amy said, "Let me guess, you and John are going on holiday again."

Clara chuckled. "Far from it – we just got back from the Maldives two months ago," she stated, making sure to say the last two words a bit more strongly.

Her best friend's eyes widened. "Are you pregnant?"

"I am."

The lawyer placed a hand to her mouth before a grin broke out. "When did you find out?"

"Two days ago – told John last night."

"You have no idea how happy I am for you right now and Melody is going to be thrilled!" Amy said before hugging her best friend.

"Thank you," Clara replied sincerely. "I'm sure she will."

"Alright," Amy said seriously. "Let's get to the serious girl talk and don't leave a single detail out – how did John react – how did you react when you found out?"

The author smiled before recounting her husband's strange behaviour. Nonetheless, she maintained the same façade and told Amy that John was initially shocked like any father-to-be would.

The two women continued chatting for another hour and parted ways shortly after lunch as Amy had to return to the office. Clara, on the other hand, returned home.

Later that night, as she typed the final touches for the current chapter she was working on, John who was lying next to her, said, "How was lunch with Amy today?"

She beamed and stopped typing. "Oh, she was over the moon when I told her I'm pregnant."

Her husband didn't make a single comment before he closed the book he was reading and set it on the bedside table. He then turned to her. "Can I see what you're writing?" he asked playfully, craning his neck.

Clara immediately pulled the laptop away from John, laughing. "No spoilers."

"Just one sentence."

"I already gave you that two days ago."

John grinned, wrapping his arms around her. "Just one more sentence, please – besides, it will make up for calling me 'Basil' in your book."

She giggled. "What's wrong with Basil – I was thanking my husband, after all."

"You could have just used 'John'," he grumbled. Only a few people knew his middle name and by a few, only two. His mother, obviously, and his wife.

"Now where would the fun be if I did that?"

"Come on, please, just one sentence," he convinced, giving her a boyish grin that he knew she loved so much.

His wife immediately set the laptop down before she shook her head. "You'll have to wait until I finish writing the book," she said when he began caressing her thigh. "But since you asked so nicely – the Doctor and Oswin will travel to the 18th century."

"That sounds intriguing," he murmured, staring into her eyes.

As their lips were about to touch, Clara's phone began ringing. "Who would be calling this late," she muttered, annoyed that the mood was ruined. The caller id showed that it was a number she wasn't familiar with. Regardless, she answered the call. "Hello?"

There was nothing on the other end of the line aside from someone breathing.

"Hello?"

John furrowed his brows. Must be a wrong number.

His wife immediately ended the call. "Probably a prank call or something," she commented before putting the phone away. "Now, where were we?" she asked.

The grin returned. "Let me remind you," he answered and captured her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named John's mother after the actress, Claire Bloom, who played the woman who was supposedly the Doctor's mother in "The End of Time".


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! Curious over who the mysterious caller is? Let's find out ;)

Clara Smith walked down the streets of London as she made her way to a restaurant just fifty feet away. She and her publishing agent and friend, Donna Noble, had agreed to meet up for lunch to discuss the current progress of the third book. Donna hadn't known about the pregnancy, yet, and that the release date would have to be slightly delayed.

The author stepped into the restaurant and immediately spotted someone waving at her. She smiled as she headed for the table where her agent was seated.

"You're glowing!" she commented as they hugged. "Last time I saw you this happy was when you got married – is space boy treating you well?"

Clara and Donna had become quick friends when they started working together. The publishing agent had taken an instant liking to her story when she read the first draft and their work relationship had been solid ever since, up to the point where Donna met the very person who convinced Clara to publish her story. Although, John had been rather awkward when he joined them in another one of their meetings one day and Donna had taken a habit of teasing him.

"Oh, very well," the author replied, with a glint in her eyes.

"I sense there's more coming," she said before a waiter approached the table. "I'll just have the usual, Ben."

"Same – but I'll just have tap water this time."

The server nodded and smiled at the two women before leaving the table.

Donna beamed once more. "As I was saying – I have a feeling this meeting isn't just going to be the usual one, is it?"

"No," Clara replied. "I'm afraid we're going to have to delay the release date a bit."

There was concern written all over the publishing agent's face. "You're not sick or anything like that, are you?"

She shook her head. "I'm actually pregnant."

"Congratulations to you and space boy, then!" Donna said, smiling. "Bet he jumped with joy when you told him!"

Clara forced a smile. There was still that voice at the back of her head which told her something wasn't right. The last time John's father was mentioned in a conversation, he immediately changed the subject. He loves his mother and talks about her fondly. A mummy's boy, as she would sometimes call him, which would cause her dear husband to glower at her in a funny manner. He didn't find it amusing, but she did. His father, on the other hand, was a whole different contrast.

John had mentioned once that his parents got divorced shortly after he started uni and he hadn't seen his father for over 25 years. Clara doesn't even know her father-in-law's name or if he's alive, even.

Maybe it was about time she talks to her husband about this. She didn't want it to drag on forever, especially when they're having a child.

"-could move the date a few months ahead," Donna explained until she realised that Clara wasn't listening. "Clara."

The author immediately snapped out of her thoughts. "Sorry, I just spaced out for a second there – what was it we were talking about."

"Good Lord, stop thinking about your husband for one second," Donna said, shaking her head. "Space boy is being space boy at the hospital."

Clara merely laughed. "Sorry, I'll try to focus, I promise."

"I think it would be best if we move the release date a few months up – it's entirely up to you," Donna suggested.

"I think that sounds good – the book is halfway done, and it should be complete before I have to give birth, probably," the author replied.

"You been to the doctor?"

"Not yet – but the first appointment is this Friday," Clara stated, smiling. John's shift ends in a few hours. Maybe she should go see him and they can return home together.

\-- 

John reached for the mug on the desk, eyes never leaving the electronic device he held in his other hand. He had an appointment with one of his patients soon and wanted to be reminded of their condition. It was almost five and this was the last appointment for the day before he could go home to his beloved wife.

A moment later, a knock was heard coming from the door.

The surgeon set the tablet aside before clearing his throat. "Come in."

An old man, no older than 70 stepped inside. He limped slightly, slowly taking his time to reach the desk as a woman followed him closely.

John stood up. "Mr Radford, nice to see you again," he said as they shook hands.

"It's good to see you too, Dr Smith," Mr Radford replied in a hoarse voice. He then turned to the young woman. "It's usually my wife who accompanies me, but she's off to another one of those book club meetings, so I brought my daughter along."

"Olivia," said the woman, giving him a flirtatious smile.

John nodded politely before all three sat down. "How have you been since we last met?"

"Fine, fine," the old man said. "I've been exercising, and Judith has been watching my diet."

The surgeon wrote down some notes on a sheet of paper. There are just some things technology can't beat. "So no chest pains like last time?"

"No, none of that."

While John was scribbling down more notes, Olivia started speaking. "My father talks a lot about how great of a surgeon you are."

"Thanks," he muttered, typing a few things on the computer. He couldn't care less about the woman sitting in front of him and would have preferred for her to wait outside his office.

She leaned closer to the desk, pushing her hair back. "How long have you been working as a doctor?"

"Long enough," he retorted, eyes never leaving the screen. This was the second time this week a woman tried to flirt with him. John didn't want to be rude since Mr Radford was such a nice man, but he wouldn't hesitate to ask the woman to wait outside if he had to.

"You can't be a day over 50," she murmured, smiling flirtatiously at him.

John took no notice of her. If anything, he was annoyed so the next thing he did was reach for the mug on his right side, purposely using his left hand to grab the mug so that the woman would get a clear view of the wedding band.

A look of disappointment washed over Olivia's face and she immediately leaned back against the seat. Mr Radford tried to hide the smile playing on his lips. He had warned his daughter that Dr Smith was probably taken and he wasn't the type of man who flirted.

"Right," John said. "I guess the immunosuppressants are working well, so I've just renewed your prescription."

The two men chatted for a few minutes longer with the surgeon advising his patient to maintain his current diet and exercise routine. Olivia sat in her seat quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Once they were both gone, John let out a sigh.

Suddenly, he chuckled. Clara would surely enjoy hearing another of these stories. He switched off the PC and cleared the desk when a knock was heard. A second later, his wife stepped inside.

"Clara," he said, a boyish grin forming. "What are you doing here?"

The last time she had surprised him like this was when she was on the book tour. Clara had missed him so much that she made a quick stop in London to see him.

"Hi," she greeted with a smile, but her eyes were saying something else. She looked troubled.

"Are you alright?" he asked and stood up before making his way to her.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm fine but, I ran into someone today."

John furrowed his brows. "Who?"

Clara pressed her lips together and paused for a short moment. "An old friend - Danny."

Danny and Clara had dated for a year before they broke up almost six years ago. He was then deployed to Afghanistan and she hadn't heard anything from him since.

Her husband cleared his throat. Early on in their relationship, he had learned that Clara used to date a soldier by the name of Danny Pink. She told him that the relationship didn't last long since they rarely saw each other and even when they did, they would always end up getting into a fight. He knew he shouldn't be jealous. There was no reason to.

"What did he want?"

\-- 

_One Hour Earlier_

The street was full of people. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining and weather just at the point where it was cool, yet not too cold. It would be a missed opportunity not to go out and miss the pleasant weather.

Clara used to remember when she would spend countless times walking along the street to get to her tiny flat just down the road. That was three years ago and while things around here haven't changed much, her life certainly had.

It was still nice to walk past the flat she used to reside in. After all, that was how she and her husband had met.

As she walked past the gates, her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the centre. He held a crutch with his right hand, looking directly at her flat as if he was debating whether he should go there.

The man then turned around as he felt a pair of eyes watching him. Danny Pink stared at her face. Clara hadn't aged at all since he last saw her. If anything, she never looked more beautiful.

"Clara," he greeted warmly.

"Danny," she said politely.

He turned to look at her former home before glancing back at her. "I came here looking for you, but I found out you had moved."

"I have," she answered. Clara didn't just want to seem rude and end the conversation but the last person she wanted to see was her ex. She had a lot on her mind, including talking to John about his strange behaviour. "I moved out three years ago."

"I know this may seem unexpected, but can we talk?" he asked. "Get a drink?"

Clara pressed her lips together. She was going to be late and miss John if she didn't leave now. "Look, Danny…"

"I'm really sorry for leaving you just like that six years ago," he began.

She was losing her patience. "Forget about it – it's the past."

Danny nodded. "Can we still talk?"

"Danny, I'm married," Clara stated. She didn't have time for this.

A look of disappointment and sadness washed over his face before it quickly disappeared. "Oh…"

"Look, I have to go," she said as she began walking.

"Sorry, what I meant to say was, can we talk as friends?" he pleaded. "I'm in a bit of trouble."

Clara stopped. He was none of her concern anymore, but she would hate to see someone in trouble, so she turned around. "What do you mean?"

Danny hesitated, adjusting his grip on the crutch.

"Let's go talk at that café over there," she suggested.

Once they were inside, Clara only ordered tap water while Danny asked for coffee.

"You used to drink tea," he commented. "You had a whole cupboard full of them."

"I still do," she replied. "But I'm pregnant and need to stay hydrated."

The former soldier nodded quietly, failing to hide the regret that once again was present in his eyes.

"You mentioned you were in trouble?"

"Not in any serious kind of trouble," he explained. "But I'm behind on rent and I haven't found a job yet – it's been a difficult couple of months since I got back with this," he then held up the crutch. "I hate to ask, but can I borrow some money?"

Clara sighed. This was something she would have to think through carefully. "How much do you need?"

"Three grand."

Her brown eyes widened.

"I know it's a significant amount, but it's difficult finding a job," he said. "I promise to pay you back once I have the money."

"I don't know, Danny..."

"I honestly don't know where to look for help – you're the only person I know."

This was something Clara had to discuss with John. "You have a maths degree, don't you?"

"Tried applying to a couple of firms, but most said no or haven't replied back."

It was then she was reminded of the strange phone call the previous night. "Was it you who called me yesterday?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah, I was really nervous… chickened out - sorry."

Clara emptied the glass of water. "I'll let you know soon," she said before she left money on the table to pay for the drinks.

"Thanks."

"But that doesn't guarantee anything."

Danny shrugged. "It's alright – at least I've tried."

Without another word, Clara stood up. Her plan had to change now.

"Clara."

She glanced back.

"I'm happy for you."

"Thank you," she said and left the café.

\-- 

"I'm still a bit hesitant about giving him three thousand pounds just like that," Clara stated once she had finished telling John the whole story.

John pondered what to do for a moment. "Well, it is your money – so it's entirely up to you, but I'd say don't give him the full amount," he said as he grabbed the messenger bag next to the desk. "Come on, we'll discuss this at home."

She took his arm and he led her out of the office before heading to the car park.

"I was planning on surprising you at work today – I'm sorry it was ruined."

"Nonsense," John replied, beaming, as he opened the passenger door and helped her in. "I was more than happy to see you."

He then went over to the driver side before getting in and shutting the door.

Clara was a bit annoyed that she wasn't able to talk to John about his past now. It would have to wait which meant the issue will be dragged through the mud a bit longer than expected.

"Hey," he said gently, squeezing her hand. "Don't let a matter like this ruin your mood – we'll figure something out – besides, I've got an interesting story to tell you."

Finally, she smiled and leaned closer to kiss him on the lips. "Let's go home," she said, putting away her worries for the time being.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support :)

The moment they got home, Clara rested on the sofa while her husband went to the kitchen to get them some drinks. She had noticed that it was easier for her to feel exhausted quicker ever since she became pregnant. She assumed that it will be even worse in the coming months.

"What would you like to drink?" John asked from the kitchen.

"Just tap water," she answered. It was either tap water or tea as Clara didn't have the appetite for anything else, aside from maybe orange juice.

A minute later, her husband returned to the living room with a can of coke in his right hand and a glass of water in his right. "One glass of tap water for Mrs Smith," he said, smirking.

"Mrs Smith is very thankful for it," she said, taking a sip before setting the glass on the coffee table. Clara then rested her head on his shoulder. "I've been thinking about what you said – I think I'll just give him two grand – that would hopefully help him get back up his feet."

She could transfer the money tomorrow and text Danny afterwards.

"I agree – that's still a significant amount of money," he added and set the can away. He smiled at his wife who looked tired. Just a few days ago, he had the same look. "How about we order takeaway tonight?" he asked, changing the subject.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked.

John kissed her hair. "Whatever you and the baby feel like eating."

Clara beamed. This was the first time she had heard him refer to the baby. It was a good sign. "I'm craving Chinese."

He smiled. "Chinese takeaway it is, then," he said before getting on his feet and felt his wife grasp his hand.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm just going to get the laptop."

Clara giggled. "Not when you can order through the app."

He rolled his eyes and settled down next to her. "Oh, forgive me, your royal highness, I'm still new to the idea of online delivery," he muttered before pulling out his smartphone.

His wife rested her head against his arm.

"What do you want to order?" John asked, scrolling through the menu.

"The usual," she replied. "And some prawn crackers, too."

"Yes, boss."

Clara sighed in content. "We have an appointment with Martha tomorrow."

John put the smartphone away once the order had been confirmed. "Yep, I know."

He had been thinking about it since the day he found out his wife was pregnant.

"We can have lunch together after that," she suggested.

Her husband beamed. "I'd like that very much – a nice change compared to the cafeteria."

\-- 

John Smith waited patiently by the main entrance of the hospital for his wife to arrive. She had texted him earlier to tell him that she would be arriving in less than twenty minutes.

He watched people coming in and out of the hospital, some look sombre while some look happy to finally be out and about. John felt someone tap his arm and he glanced to his left, immediately greeted by the sight of his wife.

"Hello, Mrs Smith," he murmured, beaming.

"Hello Dr Smith," Clara replied, hooking arms with him. "Have you been waiting for long?"

He shook his head. "Yes, four and a half billion years," he said jokingly as they entered the building.

"Funny," she commented sarcastically.

While they were in the waiting lounge, John was chatting with one of his colleagues and Clara checked her emails. A new message popped up on screen. It was the same number that had called her two days ago. Clara had no intention of saving Danny's number in her contacts and left it as it is an unknown number.

The text he had sent her told her he was very thankful for her help and would pay her back once he found a job and saved enough money. He was aiming to pay her back in three months.

"Clara and John Smith?" a nurse enquired as she entered the waiting area.

Clara stood up and her husband went to her.

"Dr Jones will see you now."

"The soon to be parents are finally here!" Martha stated happily once the door to her office shut. "How are you, Clara?" she asked, as the two women hugged.

"Great, but the morning sickness, not so much," Clara answered as everyone took their seats.

Martha gave her a sympathetic smile. "I imagine it isn't," she said, typing on the computer.

In the first hour, the obstetrician began asking questions about Clara's pregnancy before running a few tests to make sure that both the mother and baby are healthy.

John didn't say much during the appointment, only making comments when necessary. He could see how thrilled his wife is at the prospect of having a child. He wished he could share her enthusiasm and be rid of those fears.

It was as if he was both happy and unhappy with being a father. It was ridiculous, and he wanted to savour the moment just as much as Clara.

"-now comes the fun part, which I'm sure you've been anticipating," Martha said as she switched on a machine that was attached to a monitor.

John snapped out of his thoughts and he couldn't help but smile. His wife was going to get an ultrasound now.

The couple exchanged smiles before Clara got on her feet and walked towards the bed. Her husband trailed behind.

"We're doing an ultrasound, so I can get an estimate on the due date," Martha explained as Clara lied on the bed. "You're almost nine weeks pregnant so we should be able to see the fetus."

John immediately reached for his wife's hand and he felt her squeeze his.

"This might feel a bit cold," Martha warned as she applied a clear gel to the scanner.

"You weren't joking about it being cold," Clara commented as the scanner came into contact with her skin.

All three were silent as the monitor displayed the womb.

"There's the fetus right there," Martha said, pointing to a tiny white object on the screen.

Clara was grinning from ear to ear as she looked at the baby.

John, on the other hand, had a small smile playing on his lips. "That's our child," he whispered in amazement, just loud enough for his wife to hear.

She turned to her husband and squeezed his hand to get his attention.

He bent down and pecked her on the lips.

"You guys are so sickeningly sweet," Martha stated, causing the couple to laugh. "I'll be sure to make some extra copies of the scan."

"Thanks, Martha," John said.

Clara slowly sat up after the procedure was over. "I can't wait to see what he or she will look like in the next sonogram."

"How many copies would you like?" the obstetrician asked.

The couple exchanged looks before they quietly discussed the matter for a few moments. "Three should be enough," Clara said as her husband helped her.

They were going to keep one, another was going to be given to Dave and the other to Claire.

Later that night, as John brushed his teeth, his thoughts circled around the first appointment. Martha had told him that the baby would be due in mid to late January and that meant he would need to make the necessary preparations for paternity leave. He would become a father in seven months. The idea was both exciting and terrifying.

After a few minutes, he left the bathroom and was greeted by the sight of his wife staring at the ultrasound scan, with a smile playing on her lips.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly, climbing into bed.

Clara glanced at him. "Can you just imagine that next year, we'd have a little bundle of joy - we're going to be parents!"

John forced a smile. "Yeah," he muttered, pulling the covers up and facing away from her.

She knitted her eyebrows, debating whether she should bring the issue up now, but decided not to as her father would be visiting tomorrow. One moment her husband was thrilled at having a baby and the next he was being reclusive. Silently, Clara placed the photo underneath her pillow and lied down. She was beginning to think that he doesn't want a child.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked.

"What?"

"Breakfast – I promised to make you breakfast in bed tomorrow."

After a few seconds, his wife spoke. "Anything's fine."

"Ok."

As Clara's eyes got heavy, she felt the bed shift and a strong pair of arms wrapped around her. They were going to be alright. It was going to work out. She's just thinking too much into it.

\-- 

When Dave Oswald had first met John Smith, he had thought his daughter was pulling a prank on him when she had told him the surgeon is her boyfriend. Not that he had anything against John, but it came as a surprise to him that his daughter would date an older man. At the end of the day, all that mattered was Clara's happiness.

He was definitely seeing that in her when she had shown him the ultrasound scan. No doubt she was thrilled at becoming a mother, but there was something more to it. He was her father, after all, and he could tell that something was bothering his only child.

Another thing he noticed was that John had been quieter than normal.

"-and the baby is due in January," Clara explained.

"A winter baby," Dave commented, grinning as he stared at the image. He couldn't wait to meet his grandchild. "Nan hasn't been able to stop talking about you since you phoned us."

Clara's nan would have happily travelled to London with Dave had she been in better health. She had promised to video call her granddaughter soon.

John sat next to his wife in silence, spacing out when he heard Dave call him. "Sorry… I was thinking about something."

"How long are you able to take paternity leave?"

He cleared his throat. "Two weeks – as soon as the baby's born, I get two weeks off."

Dave nodded, satisfied with his answer.

The trio, or rather, just Clara and her father, continued chatting until it was time for Dave to leave as he had to catch his train back to Blackpool.

He shook hands with his son-in-law before turning to his daughter. "I'm so happy for you, Clara," he said sincerely and hugged her.

Just then, a ruckus was heard coming from the garden.

"Oh no, please don't tell me Mrs Andrews and Mrs Taylor's cats are fighting in our garden again," Clara sighed.

"I'll go check it," John said as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Dave was thankful for the distraction as he could get the chance to have a private conversation with his daughter. "Is everything alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"I feel as if you're troubled by something."

Clara laughed. "No, dad, it's just the morning sickness and I feel tired a lot quicker."

She wasn't lying. Only telling half-truths.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive – and then there's the book I have to finish."

Dave stared at her for a moment for a while before nodded in resignation. "Alright, but please call me if you need anything," he said.

John returned to the hallway. "The cats were indeed fighting in the garden, but I shooed them away."

"I will probably visit again next month if time permits and nan might come along too."

Clara beamed. "Tell her not to push herself – we could always visit."

Her father bid farewell and once he disappeared down the street, she shut the door before turning around to face her husband.

"You're really quiet today."

"Just exhausted."

She followed him upstairs to the bedroom.

"You've been acting really strange lately," she commented.

John continued walking until he reached the closet. "No, I haven't," he said as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asked gently.

"Talk about what?" he asked, taking off the shirt and putting on a graphic t-shirt.

"Whatever is bothering you," Clara stated as he faced her.

He placed both hands on her arms. "Nothing is bothering me – I'm fine," he said gently.

She looked into his eyes, trying to see if he was telling the truth but it was difficult to tell.

"You said you wanted to binge-watch that show, right, Peaky Blinders?" he said, changing the subject.

Clara needed to consider her options wisely. Maybe she should talk to Amy first. The problem with John is that, when he avoids a problem, he avoids it completely. They were going to visit his mother the following weekend so there was that option, too.

"Yeah," she replied as he took her hand and led her downstairs to the living room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! Sorry, it took me a while to post an update but I have been busy for the past few weeks (and travelling a bit). The updates might now become weekly again unless I'm able to post a new chapter whenever possible. Anyway, enjoy! :)

It had been a few days since Clara's father had visited her. A few days since she tried to confront her husband about his strange behaviour, which was fruitless as he kept dodging the issue. She wasn't sure if his past was the thing that bothered him or if he doesn't want a child to begin with.

They had talked about it before, and as far as she could remember, he didn't seem to act strangely when she brought up the idea of children. Maybe it was because reality hadn't really sunk in until now, until she got pregnant or perhaps, he's just nervous at being a father at a later age.

Clara felt confused.

It was the reason she had asked Amy to meet her at their usual café to have a chat. Maybe John is just suffering from cold feet. Her best friend had told her countless stories of Rory going through the same thing, but she couldn't remember much about it.

As Clara stepped into the café, she spotted Amy sitting in one corner and made her way there. The two women hugged before taking their seats.

"You sounded a bit off when you texted me," Amy began, eyes full of concern for her best friend. "Everything alright?"

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but a waitress suddenly appeared, holding a notepad and pen in her hands.

"Hello, are you ladies ready to order?"

The two women placed their orders and once the server was out of earshot, Clara began speaking. "I think so…"

Her best friend furrowed her brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Clara wracked her brain to choose the right words. "I… I don't really know how to explain it, but… John seems to be acting a bit strange."

"To be fair, he's always weird," Amy said jokingly before she became serious again. "Don't you mean nervous?"

"Yes," she agreed immediately. "No… I mean… I'm not sure."

"Did you guys fight or something?"

The former school teacher sighed. "We didn't fight, or at least we were close to," she explained. "Ever since I told him about the pregnancy, he's been acting strangely… it's like he's just pretending to be happy."

Amy listened to her carefully as she continued.

"I just thought that maybe he was just anxious at first, but I don't think that's it – this may sound like a stupid question, but was Rory like that?"

Her best friend placed a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm guessing you tried talking to John about this?"

Clara sighed in frustration. "He keeps avoiding the subject."

"As far as I could remember, Rory was nervous all the time, but it was nothing out of the ordinary – I think you really need to lock John in a room – that's the only way I can see him listening."

Finally, the author laughed. "Probably have to take extra precaution and tie him to a chair."

Amy scrunched her nose. "Oh my God, stop it – you always have that look when you're thinking about him."

Her best friend giggled. She felt slightly better after having someone to talk to. Her worries were still there nonetheless and Clara was determined to get to the bottom of this issue before the trip to Glasgow. She didn't want to prolong it any longer, not when she has other things to sort out.

"Yeah, I'm going to have a proper talk with him."

\-- 

The plan was simple. Cook John his favourite meal, pamper him a bit and just before bed, she'd bring up the topic of which had been bothering her for over a week now.

While her husband was brushing his teeth, she had been going through the lines over and over in her head. She had to act now, or they'll never be able to address the elephant in the room.

Clara jumped slightly when she heard the bathroom door swing open and, in an instant, she brought the book she held in her hands up to eye level, pretending to be occupied.

A moment later, John climbed into bed and leaned forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. "You've been spoiling me today," he commented.

She set down the book and looked straight at him. "I'm always nice."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Complimenting yourself?" he asked with a grin.

His wife giggled and placed the book on the nightstand before kissing him. "There's something I want to talk about," she began.

"About what?" he murmured, kissing her neck.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment before she shot them open and gently pushed her husband away. "John, I'm serious."

He eyed her carefully before leaning back against the headboard. "Alright, I'm listening."

Clara bit her lower lip. She had had this conversation in her head hundreds of times before, but it would seem she was lost for words.

"Remember when I asked you about what was bothering you when-"

John groaned. "I thought we agreed it was nothing."

His wife knitted her eyebrows. She never even had the chance to address the issue last time. "I think you were the one who was eager to stop the discussion."

"Because there's nothing to talk about."

"Not when there is!" she argued. "Why have you been so difficult lately?" she asked in frustration.

"What do you mean I've been difficult?" he said defensively.

Clara grasped his hand. "I just want to know why you've been avoiding talks about the baby since we found out about the pregnancy… does it have something to do with your past?"

John looked away from her and his wife took it as an indication to continue.

"I know you had a difficult relationship with your dad and becoming a father is a terrifying thing, but I'm your wife and I'm always here to listen," she stated, gently caressing his hand with her thumb.

Her husband remained silent. He hated his father. Despised him. Everything he had done as a child was seen as wrong in his father's eyes. Nothing was right. As much as John hated to admit it, he had without a doubt, inherited the old man's stubbornness and temper.

The fear of becoming just like him was too much.

"Please, just talk to me," Clara said, almost begging. "Sometimes I wonder if you don't want a child to begin with."

Her accusation caught his attention. "It's not that," he said, almost in a whisper.

"Then what is it?" she asked, irritated that the conversation was going nowhere.

"Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow-"

"No, I have had enough – every time I bring it up, you dodge it," his wife snapped.

John exhaled through his nose. "It's not something I can easily talk about," he argued. "You wouldn't understand."

"Which is why I told you I'm willing to listen, but you keep running away from it," Clara replied, shaking her head. "But if you insist on being so stubborn… and… and acting like this!" she said. "Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind sleeping in the guest bedroom."

Brilliant. He managed to get himself kicked out of his own bedroom. The last time this had happened was several months ago, but that was a completely different and unimportant matter.

"Clara," he began gently, and she faced away from him, arms crossed. No point in arguing since that meant she was done talking to him for now.

With his shoulders sunk in defeat, John threw away the covers and climbed out of bed before making his way to the guest bedroom.

He was sure that she would only be upset with him for a whole day at most. That was always the case and he had nothing to worry about too much. They always made up in the end.

John collapsed on the bed, not bothering to even close the door as his mind was still preoccupied with the words he had exchanged with Clara earlier. She wouldn't understand. She had parents who loved her. Her father adores her. He, on the other hand, wasn't so fortunate.

His mind and body were not kind to him that night as he kept tossing and turning on the mattress. Even if he did manage to fall asleep, he would subconsciously roll over and extend an arm, only to be greeted by an empty bed.

John had contemplated returning to the master bedroom at around three in the morning. He wasn't able to rest properly, and he needed it. It was risky, but he wasn't about to go in there and apologise just yet.

He was hurt that Clara had accused him of not wanting to have a child.

The soon-to-be father sat up in bed and then a moment later, lied down again. No, he wasn't going to be the first one to say sorry this time.

Unsurprisingly, John Smith woke up the following morning feeling tired and slightly miserable. Breakfast was even worse as husband and wife barely exchanged any words with one another.

It would seem he would have to spend another night in the guest bedroom.

When it was time for him to leave for work, they only exchanged silent goodbyes. No kisses or hugs.

The moment the car disappeared from the driveway, Clara's shoulders sank. She placed a hand on her stomach. "Your father's an idiot," she muttered tiredly. John wasn't the only one who didn't get enough sleep.

Why couldn't he just open up about his past instead of locking it away? She just wanted to understand him better and never think about this again, but nothing went according to plan.

They were going to visit his mother in two days time and it would seem as if the silent treatment will carry on for a while.

\-- 

It was the night before the trip to Glasgow and John was still very much stuck in the guest bedroom. Neither one of them had spoken to each other much and if he was completely honest, he was starting to miss Clara badly by now.

The surgeon woke up at around four in the morning to a sound he had grown accustomed to, that was coming from the bathroom. As much as he was still a bit upset with her accusation, he climbed out of bed and treaded softly to the master bedroom.

The bathroom door was ajar and inside, his wife was sitting in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach.

Carefully, he entered the bathroom and gently pulled her hair back before settling down next to her and grasping her hand.

Once it was over, Clara leaned against her husband. They said nothing for a while until John broke the silence.

"Do you want to go back to bed or do you still feel sick?"

"Bed," she groaned with her eyes shut before burying her face in his chest. "But let me get rid of that horrible taste in my mouth first."

He helped his wife stand and guided her to the sink.

Five minutes later, they were back in bed. John finally had his spot back and that meant he would at least rest properly. He turned his head and stared at Clara whose back was facing him.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered weakly.

Not knowing what else to say, he closed his eyes. Just as he was about to fall asleep, John felt the bed shift and the next thing he knew, his wife reached for his hand. Well, things were certainly heading in the right direction. He scooted closer and brought the back of her hand to his lips.

The very next morning, the couple had an early start to the day as they had to catch their train to Scotland.

Clara had packed their clothes into one suitcase and while John was allowed back into the bedroom, there was still a bit of tension in the air. Besides, the fact that she had taken his clothes without asking him said she was still a bit cross with him. Not that he was complaining much, to begin with. He was always terrible at this sort of thing anyway.

"Ready?" he asked as she grabbed something from the drawer.

"Yes," his wife said, sliding a copy of the ultrasound into her bag.

How on earth they were going to make up in five hours or so before visiting John's mother is anybody's guess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! Will Clara and John settle their differences? Let's find out! :D

The train journey from London to Glasgow lasted for about five hours. While things were starting to mellow down, John and Clara still didn't talk all that much. Regardless, the surgeon took it as a good sign when his wife fell asleep on his shoulder. It was something.

Travelling to his childhood home took another 45 minutes and when the cab dropped them off in front of the home John spent the first 25 years of his life in, the couple exchanged looks. They stood on the porch, with John holding their suitcase while Clara fiddled with her hands.

The last thing they wanted to do was give his mother the impression that they were fighting. Well, technically speaking, they were no longer fighting, but both were just too stubborn to apologise and make up.

John glanced at his wife before his lips formed a smile. He offered her his hand. "Come on."

She took his hand as they made their way to the front door.

He rang the doorbell and a second later, they heard a dog bark on the other side.

"I'm coming!" said a soft voice. The door then swung open. "John, Clara!" Claire exclaimed in surprise. Shock and disbelief were written all over her face. They hadn't called to inform her that they would be visiting, not that she minded. It was always nice to see her son and daughter-in-law. A grin formed on her face when her greyhound dashed past her and circled around the couple.

Clara giggled when the dog nuzzled into her hand. "Hello, Gary!"

The greyhound then barked happily as John scratched his ear.

"Hi Mum," the surgeon murmured as he looked up before he hugged his mother.

"You could have called – I would have cooked something," she said, kissing her son's cheek before hugging Clara. She could tell that something was off. There was tension in the air.

"We wanted it to be a surprise," Clara replied once she pulled away.

Claire Smith stared at the couple for a fraction of a second before beckoning them to come inside. Gary had run to his bed to retrieve a tennis ball before he dropped it at John's feet.

"Gary," she scolded lightly. "Didn't we play fetch just less than an hour ago?"

The greyhound barked before he cheekily grabbed his ball disappeared upstairs. He was a true-blue couch potato when Claire didn't have any guests but as soon as he knows that someone is coming, the greyhound would turn into an active dog.

"I'll play with him later in the evening," John said.

His mother nodded. "Why don't the two of you rest first before we catch up – I'll start cooking."

"I can help," Clara suggested immediately.

"No, no, dear, you and my grandchild need to rest."

Clara smiled. "Just let me know if you need any help."

Her mother-in-law nodded as she watched the couple walk up the steps to the upper floor. She hoped that whatever it was they were fighting, it was over something silly.

\-- 

Upstairs, John led the way to his bedroom while his wife silently followed him. The last time she was here was about half a year ago, during Christmas.

He twisted the handle before pushing the door open and stepping inside. His room had remained the same since last time. Well, since he moved away from Glasgow to work in London. There was a single bed in the middle, a desk and chair in one corner of the room, on the wall, hung some worn out posters of Queen and David Bowie.

Setting the suitcase next to the bed, he turned around to look at Clara, who had her eyes fixed on a picture of him taken on graduation. She had told him how much she loves the photo.

She caught him staring and he immediately looked in a different direction.

John cleared his throat. "I'll take the floor."

Clara knitted her eyebrows. "What?"

Six months ago, they didn't have any issues sleeping in a single bed. If anything, both loved the close contact despite how cramped it was. Besides, she always found it hilarious that his long legs were sticking out a bit.

"You can't sleep on the floor," he explained.

"What's wrong if you sleep on the bed, too?" she asked.

Her husband shrugged. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Idiot. A considerate idiot, nonetheless. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I'm two months pregnant – my stomach is barely swollen yet," she said. "Besides, wouldn't want you to complain of suffering from a backache if you sleep on the floor."

John's lips formed a small smile. "Alright."

Two hours later, Clara was helping her mother-in-law in the kitchen while John was outside in the garden, playing fetch with Gary.

"You and John were a bit quiet during dinner," Claire commented, testing the water.

Clara forced a smile. "We're probably just exhausted," she said quietly while wiping the dish she held, with a cloth.

Claire nodded absentmindedly. "If you ever need to talk, I'm willing to listen," she murmured kindly. "You two just can't get enough of each other – it's either John holding your hand or you teasing him, but I hadn't seen any of that since you arrived."

Clara paused, considering her options.

"Is it about the baby?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know?"

The older woman looked out the window and watched her only child run around the garden with Gary chasing him. She could still picture him doing the same thing back when he was a boy. "I'm his mother," she replied, eyes never leaving John. "I know everything about him," she stated before glancing at Clara.

She eventually put the plate and cloth down on the counter. "I… we… I'm not sure how to explain it, but when I told John I was pregnant, he seemed…"

"Distant, nervous?" Claire suggested.

Her daughter-in-law nodded in agreement. "He's been acting a bit strange and when I tried to confront him about it, it just went haywire."

Claire blew air between her teeth. "He's afraid he will turn into his father."

Clara had figured out that much, but it still didn't make much sense why. "I asked him about this and he immediately became defensive."

"Has he told you what his father was like?"

"No – he only mentioned him once and that he hadn't seen him for 30 years."

Claire thought it would be best for John to tell his wife about his past. It wasn't her place to mention it, so she decided to steer the conversation in a slightly different direction.

They sat down by the dinner table.

"When John was a child, he used to draw comics for the local newspaper," Claire began, smiling. "He didn't want any of his school friends to find out about it, since he thought they were horrible, which they weren't, under the name 'Basil Funkenstein'."

This caused Clara to giggle. Who would have thought her hubby would use a name he found to be embarrassing? She could tease him about this.

"The only people who knew about it were me and him," her mother-in-law explained. "Eventually, John told his father, because he wanted to impress him."

Clara had noticed that her tone became sadder the more she spoke. "What happened then?" she asked, almost in a whisper as she knew the outcome wouldn't be a happy one.

"Jeremy brushed it off, he said that it was a waste of time," Claire concluded. "That's just one incident."

There were dozens more. Claire and Jeremy had gotten married at a young age. She was in her final year of university while he was a petroleum engineer. They had been together for less than a year when she had discovered she was pregnant. Both their families had agreed for them to wed and they did. Jeremy resented it, unsurprisingly. He didn't love John. He didn't love his son at all. Some days, she regretted ever meeting him, but when she did, she realised that she wouldn't have John in the first place. Her sweet boy.

"John is going to be the world's best dad, I guarantee," chided her mother-in-law as she picked up the copy of the ultrasound. In seven months, she would meet her grandchild.

Clara wasn't sure what to say. This was the first time she had found out what her husband's father is or was like. Regardless, she finally got the confirmation she needed.

Just then, the two women heard Gary running to the door and a moment later, it swung open as the dog ran inside to the bowl of water situated in one corner. John then stepped inside, face slightly flushed due to the heat outside. He made eye contact with his wife before looking in a different direction.

"So, when is the next appointment?" Claire asked, breaking the silence.

"In two weeks," the married couple answered.

"I'm just going to go upstairs and unpack," Clara announced as she got on her feet. Gary followed her upstairs.

John, on the other hand, went to the fridge to get a drink.

Once his mother was sure that Clara was out of earshot, she said, "Would you like to talk about it?"

"About what?"

She gave him a look that told him that she wasn't a fool.

He ran a hand through his silver curls before settling in the seat opposite of her. "It's fine," he finally spoke. "It's just a misunderstanding… I will clear it up with Clara."

"Seems like it won't happen any time soon, judging by how little you both exchange words," Claire retorted. Her steel blue eyes fell on the sonogram again. "Are you happy about this?"

John smiled when he remembered seeing his child for the first time. Of course, he was happy – he's having a child with the woman he loves so much. "I am."

"You shouldn't let your fears get in the way then."

"Mum…"

She locked eyes with him. "Yes, at the end of the day, he's your father, you're his son, nothing will ever change that, but that doesn't mean you'll turn into him – you've proven yourself to be a better man – just look at Clara, look at your life."

Her son remained silent.

"You have nothing to worry about," Claire said as she placed a hand on his. "Nothing is stopping you from being a loving father."

John nodded in resignation. His mother is right. He would apologise to his wife later tonight.

"Now, the next time you two surprise visit me, I want to know what sort of names you have in mind for the baby," she said lightly.

He let out a chuckle. "I think it'll be a while until we decide on a name."

"Well, it's never too early," Claire replied. "I knew your middle name was going to be Basil just four months into the pregnancy."

Her son groaned, causing her to laugh.

\-- 

Later that night, while Clara was in bed, she made the decision to apologise to her husband. It was wrong of her to make such a ridiculous accusation and she should have been more understanding.

The bedroom door creaked open and John silently stepped inside, wondering if his wife was sleeping. He shut the door before switching off the lights, the room now illuminated by the street lamp outside the window.

The bed was only meant for a single occupant so two people sharing it would require a bit of physical contact. Carefully, John slipped underneath the covers before he settled next to his wife.

A smile formed on her lips when she caught the scent of the minty fresh toothpaste he had used.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked quietly, his hot breath tickling her neck.

"I am… you?"

He shifted a bit before draping an arm over her. "Yes," he answered before she rolled over to face him.

"What about now?"

He chuckled. "Even better."

They laid in each other's arm in silence until both said, "I'm sorry."

There was a pregnant pause before the couple broke into a fit of giggles.

"I owe you an explanation," John murmured, caressing Clara's cheek.

"I owe you an apology," she added.

"And that, too," he said. "I mean, I'm talking about apologising to you, not that I expect you to-"

She silenced him with a long and gentle kiss. "I get what you mean," she whispered once she pulled away.

Her husband kissed her forehead before brushing his hand over her stomach. "I'm not sure where to begin…"

"You'll have plenty of time to say whatever is on your mind," she said, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. "I just want to go to sleep now because I miss this."

"That makes it the both of us."

While Clara slept peacefully, John lay wide awake, remembering what his mother had told him. She is right. Nothing could stop him from being a loving father. He likes to think that he's a good husband to his wife, something his father wasn't. No different, at being a dad.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! Let's see what other troubles lie ahead ;)

"I'm thinking of ordering takeaway tonight," Clara announced as she and John stepped into their home. It was dark by the time they had reached London and they only had a light meal during the journey.

"What will it be this time?" her husband asked as he set down the suitcase next to the staircase before locking the door. He felt her wrap her arms around him.

"Japanese?" she suggested as he turned around, placing both hands on her waist.

"Ok," he murmured, smiling. "I'll be sure to use the app instead of using my laptop like a caveman."

His joke caused her to giggle before she got on her toes and kissed him on the lips. It felt so good that they were no longer giving each other the silent treatment and back to being 'sickeningly sweet' as everyone would describe them.

"I'm beginning to think you want to skip to dessert," John commented once they pulled away.

Clara gave him a mischievous smile. "As much as I'd love to, I'm starving."

"I'll get right to ordering dinner, then," he said as she freed herself from his embrace before reaching for his hand and guiding him to the living room. "Delivery usually takes about an hour."

His wife laughed. "Be patient, Dr Smith."

He flashed her a wolfish grin before looking back down at his phone. "Chicken?"

"No, I'm craving prawns tonight."

He placed their order and hid the phone in the pocket of his trousers before joining Clara on the sofa. With an arm wrapped around her, John thought that they could talk about his past later. For now, he wanted to enjoy the moment.

"You've been craving a lot of Asian food lately," he commented lightly.

She shrugged. "It's what the baby wants."

He gently placed a hand on her stomach and then looked up. "I love you, I love you both."

"Never doubted it for a second," she replied. "I love you, too, daft man – you'll know how much soon enough."

Their food finally arrived, and the couple spent the next hour eating dinner and enjoying each other's company.

Later that night, John and Clara laid in each other's arms. Limbs tangled with one another, neither of them could be bothered to move, nor sleep. The bedroom was silent as the only sound which could be heard was the fan in the corner.

Clara glanced at her husband, a smile playing on her lips. His eyes were glued to the ceiling and she knew he was thinking about something. "What are you thinking about?" she asked, kissing his bare chest.

He remained silent, pulling her closer to him and resting his chin on top of her head. "I really want this," he began. "I didn't mean to give off the impression that I didn't want kids."

"I'm sorry for saying that."

John chuckled. "I think we've gone past the apologising stage."

Clara kissed his neck. "I know, but I still feel bad."

"Don't be."

Silence greeted them once more, so she decided to start a new conversation. "I'm surprised you're still awake."

Her husband smiled. "I'm taking the day off tomorrow."

She looked up. "That's a bit surprising."

"Notified the hospital on Thursday."

That explained it, but it didn't answer her question why he had decided to take Monday off in the first place.

The surgeon then continued. "I did that in case our fight didn't resolve by tomorrow – look on the bright side, though, I get to spend a whole day with you."

"You mean distracting me from writing?" she asked jokingly before he pecked her on the lips.

"I thought you enjoy my company, as evident earlier," John commented suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows, causing his wife to laugh.

"That reminds me – you get to read two chapters from the book tomorrow," she stated. "I need a fresh pair of eyes to proofread it anyway."

He grinned. "I'd love to read them."

He then lied down on his back before Clara rested her head on his chest. She had done her part, it was time for him to do his.

After a few moments of tranquillity, John spoke. "Did mum tell you another embarrassing story about my childhood?"

She lazily drew patterns on his skin. "How did you know?"

"Saw you laughing through the window."

And he keeps wondering why their friends constantly say that John only has eyes for her.

"Mum told me you used to draw comics for the local newspaper under the alias 'Basil Funkenstein'," the author giggled, earning a groan from her husband.

"For the record, my younger-self thought it would make 'Basil' sound cooler."

"Like it or not, I'm including that in my book."

"Brilliant," he grumbled. After a pregnant pause, he continued. "The main reason I even drew the comics was that my old man loved reading those in the papers and I wanted to impress him… he… when I told him, he pushed the newspaper away – said he was busy and that I was wasting my time… the funny thing is, he's never home often – sometimes he'd be months away at an oil rig somewhere so saying he was busy was a poor excuse."

Clara remained silent, letting her husband do all the talking.

"Everything I did wasn't right in his eyes and it bothered me for a while… for years I thought that I must have done something for him to hate me," he explained. "But then I realised that he was just a rubbish father… I'm sure he resented having me."

She raised her head, brows furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"I put two and two together – they got married six months before I was born," John said, voice heavy with sadness. "It's the only explanation I can think of."

His wife then placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "It doesn't matter what your father thinks of you – what matters now is the present and future," she stated before grabbing his hand and placing it on her stomach. "You have us, you have mum."

He smiled. "I know," he murmured, caressing the small bump with his thumb.

A pair of hands then cupped Clara's face softly, as if she was made of glass.

"What did I do to deserve you?" John whispered.

"You returned my notebook, remember?" she replied, beaming. "Well, that's one reason."

No words were exchanged as her husband leaned forward and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. She snaked her arms around his neck to pull him closer before John rolled over, so he was on top of her.

\-- 

The sun was just rising that morning and in the Smith household, all was silent as the occupants were still fast asleep.

The tranquillity didn't last long, however, as an alarm began blaring, rousing Clara from her slumber. She sighed as the alarm kept on going before shifting a bit. She would have switched it off herself if she wasn't trapped in her husband's embrace.

"John," she groaned, eyes closed. When she didn't receive a response, she said his name again, and this time, he extended an arm to silence the phone.

"I'll get breakfast ready in 15 minutes," Clara mumbled.

She was surprised when her husband suddenly chuckled.

"I took the day off, remember?"

The author sighed in content and snuggled closer to him. "Yeah, sorry, forgot… I have you to myself today."

He kissed her forehead. "I am completely at your disposal, your majesty."

Suddenly, Clara shot her eyes open and jolted up, covering her mouth with a hand. She climbed out of bed and rushed to the bathroom with John trailing behind her.

"I hate this," she groaned, kneeling in front of the toilet.

He did his best to comfort her while also holding her hair out of the way. He had learned it was best not to say anything while she was spilling her guts out.

Once they returned to bed, John suggested he make breakfast and bring it upstairs, which Clara was more than happy to agree to, despite losing her appetite. She knew she had to fill her stomach for the sake of the baby.

Half an hour later, the couple were enjoying breakfast in the sanctity of their bedroom while watching the morning news.

"I've been thinking," John said, eyes fixed on the television. "Maybe we could visit your family this weekend."

Clara beamed. "That sounds wonderful, we could go on a day trip."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

Her phone on the bedside table lit up and began ringing. The smile on her face immediately disappeared when she recognised the phone number. "It's Danny," she announced, debating whether she should answer his call or not.

"Maybe you should just answer it and see what he says," John suggested casually.

His wife took his advice and answered the call. It lasted less than a minute and judging by the tone, as well as the expression on Clara's face, he could tell it wasn't really good news.

"He wants to meet at a café, today - says he found a job but needs my help."

John set down his plate on the floor, next to the mattress. "He didn't tell you what sort of job it was?"

She shook her head. "He wants to talk in person since it's easier to explain, or so he says."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

The former school teacher considered her options. Sure, it will be a bit awkward introducing her husband to her ex, but she wanted to get it over with quickly. "Yeah, sounds good."

\-- 

Danny Pink was seated in the back of the café, waiting patiently for Clara to arrive. He had discovered that the school she used to work at required a maths teacher and he thought it might be a good move to apply, given his educational background.

The bell by the door chimed and when he turned his head, the former soldier spotted Clara, along with an older man holding the door for her. The man with the silver curls has a kind smile plastered on his face as she walked past him. He couldn't be her husband, could he?

While Clara walked towards his table, the man headed for the pastries section.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet at such short notice," Danny said as she sat down in front of him. "Did you come here with your dad?"

Maybe he shouldn't have asked her that question as the look on Clara's face was a mix of annoyance and anger. "I came here with my husband," she said tightly.

"Sorry," he apologised quietly. "I'm guessing you won't be staying for long, then?"

"What was the reason you called me here?"

Danny cleared his throat. "I found a job at your old school – they're looking for a maths teacher and I was wondering if you could put in a good word for me?"

He really could have just told her this on the phone. "Um, sure, I still have a few friends who work there, and I think Mrs Ashton is still in charge of the whole job application thing."

The former soldier finally relaxed a bit. "Thank you, thank you so much – I was hoping to thank you by having some cakes or tea, but I guess not."

Clara sat up and slung the small bag over her shoulder. "Sorry, Danny, that's thoughtful of you, but I have to go – hope you'll get the job."

"Thanks," he said quietly, watching as she turned around and approached her husband who was paying for the pastries.

The meeting only lasted a few minutes and the author couldn't be happier it was over. John rarely took any days off from work, so Clara was determined to spend the whole day with him.

"How did it go?" John asked as they walked out of the café.

"He asked me if I could put in a good word for him – my school's looking for a maths teacher," Clara explained as she hooked arms with him. She then decided to change the subject. "Would you like to go anywhere?"

"That's a question appropriate for you," the surgeon replied, smiling.

"We could head to Waterstones – I need a new notebook."

He nodded. "Waterstones it is then, and if it's no trouble to you, would it be alright if we stop by at the hospital afterwards?"

"Is it an emergency?" his wife asked in concern.

"No, one of the junior doctors I'm supervising is transferring to a different hospital to be closer to home, so I just need to sign a few things and the forms need to be submitted as soon as possible."

Clara shrugged. "Alright, but just remember you're not working today," she said lightly.

"Yes, boss."

Two hours later, Clara Smith sat in the waiting lounge, waiting for her husband.

Her eyes caught sight of a mother playing with her child, who couldn't be older than a year. She smiled when the baby started giggling as the mother tickled his tummy.

She placed a hand on her belly. Soon. In the near future, she too would become a mother and hold her child in her arms. 

The author then caught sight of an old man standing outside, behind the clear glass doors. She would have ignored him in any other circumstance, but he had a look in his eyes. Something she couldn't quite explain. Sadness? Pain? Regret?

The man held a walking stick in one hand while holding a handkerchief to his mouth as he coughed.

There was something familiar about him.

She didn't have much time to think about it as John suddenly appeared in front of her. "I signed the documents and I'm done for the day," he said, grinning.

"Great," she replied, finally snapping out of her thoughts and looking at him.

"Everything alright?" he asked carefully.

She glanced at the glass doors once more, but the old man had disappeared. "Yeah," she confirmed. "Thought I saw somebody familiar."

John looked in the same direction but shrugged it off. She was probably tired. "I think we should go home."

Clara couldn't agree more.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! :) Enjoy!

"Come in, come in!" Dave greeted happily as he pushed the wooden door open to let his daughter and son-in-law inside. They had phoned him a few days ago to tell him that they would be travelling to Blackpool to visit him and his family. "How was the journey?" he asked, embracing Clara.

"Good," she answered. "Kept ourselves occupied by proofreading two chapters from the book I'm working on."

Her husband then shook hands with Dave, both men nodding politely. "It was an enjoyable read," he complimented, smiling at her.

"Where are my favourite people in the world?" a voice murmured from upstairs. A second later, Clara's grandmother trod down the stairs carefully.

Clara rushed to her grandmother and gave her a gentle and warm hug. "I've missed you so much, nan."

Nan patted her back before kissing both her cheeks. "I've missed you too, dear," she said before focusing her attention on John. "A happy reunion wouldn't be complete without giving my favourite grandson-in-law a kiss," she said, winking.

John awkwardly hugged her after she kissed his cheek. "How are you, nan?"

"So much better than last time, especially after seeing a picture of my great-grandchild," she chided as all four sat down in the living room.

Clara shifted in her seat a bit as she knew she had to ask the question she dreaded, just to be polite. "So where's Linda?"

Dave looked back at the staircase. "She'll be down soon, just getting ready."

John sensed his wife's discomfort and immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"How's the book coming along?" Nan asked, changing the subject to lighten the mood a bit. She knew her granddaughter dislikes Linda, so it was best to avoid that topic as long as possible.

Clara beamed. "Great, I'm more than halfway through with the book and John recently read two of the chapters."

"Which I thoroughly enjoyed," he added, grinning.

"So does that mean you'll finish the book before the baby's due?"

The author nodded. "Yeah, I just want to get it out of the way and then release it sometime next year," she explained before her gaze travelled to the hallway as at that moment, her step-mother walked into the living room.

"Clara."

"Linda."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Dave coughed and got on his feet. "I'll check on the steak."

Linda forced a smile. "When did you and your husband get here?"

"Not too long ago," Clara replied, placing a hand on John's knee and then leaning back against the seat.

"Congratulations on your pregnancy," Linda muttered. The tone of her voice lacked any sincerity.

John shifted in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable and terrified that his wife was going to explode with anger at any moment, so he began rubbing her arm in hopes of calming her down.

"How's everything at the hospital, John?" Nan interjected.

He cleared his throat. "Great, slightly chaotic on sometimes, but great."

Linda then looked at him, almost with a devilish smile. "How does it feel to be a father at a later age?"

This time, John glanced at Clara with a smile briefly. "Terrifying, yet excited by what the future holds," he answered, ignoring the last comment.

Nan saw that Linda was ready to give a snide remark, so she beat her to it. "Dave, is the food ready, yet?"

"Yes, was just about to say that."

She was so glad she didn't have to witness World War 3 right in front of her very eyes between her granddaughter and daughter-in-law. She then smiled when Clara mouthed thank you and John nodded at her.

To say that lunch was slightly tense would be a bit of an understatement. It was civilised, sure, but it felt as if a bomb was about to go off at any given moment.

Luckily for the couple, the meeting didn't last longer than two hours. They had other places to be and only had a few hours in Blackpool.

"Please call me when you get home," Nan said, embracing Clara and then John. "You know how worried I get if I don't hear anything from either of you."

"We will," Clara replied.

"I'll be sure to remind her if she forgets," John added, chuckling. "And thank you for baking the delicious cake," he said.

Nan waved it off, beaming. "I know how much of a sweet tooth you are, dear."

"You're going to the cemetery, right?" Dave asked. "Do you want me to call you a cab?"

"We'll be fine," his daughter insisted. "I need to stretch my legs a bit."

John looked up at the sky. It was getting a bit dark. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, it's not that far away and we won't be there for long."

"Right, thanks for coming," Dave murmured as he kissed Clara's cheek before shaking hands with John.

Clara waved at her family one last time before she and her husband disappeared down the road.

The journey took about twenty minutes and it was a quiet one, which prompted John to wonder if she was feeling well. "You ok?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and nodded. "Yeah, my mind was somewhere else just now," she murmured.

He felt her grasp his hand as they entered the cemetery and made their way to Ellie Oswald's grave, which was tucked away in the far corner.

The moment they reached the headstone, John squeezed Clara's hand. "Do you want to have a moment?" he asked, granting her a smile.

"No, silly, I want you here with me," she replied, leaning closer to her husband and resting her cheek on his arm as she stared at her mother's name. The last time they were here was a month before they had gotten married. It has been a while.

"Alright," he whispered. "Take as much time as you need."

There was no doubt that Ellie would have loved John if she was still alive today. She would be pleased to see that her daughter was happily married to someone who treated her with so much love and care.

There was no doubt Ellie would be thrilled at hearing the news that she would become a grandmother. Clara could imagine her mother's reaction. As a matter of fact, she was sure her mother would have taken the next train to London after receiving the news.

Clara shed a single tear. What could have been. She sometimes wished her mother was still here, so she could bask in on the happy news and in the near future, meet her grandchild.

The soon-to-be mother was snapped out of her thoughts when John offered caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. "I've never met your mum," he began. "But from what you've told me, she would be very happy right now."

She could only smile as she was at loss for words.

Clara took a moment to collect her composure before she blinked to clear her eyes. "Ok, I'm ready to go."

John guided his wife out of the cemetery and a minute later, they were walking by the sidewalk, heading to the train station, arms still linked.

"We still have two hours left before our train leaves – would you like to go anywhere?"

"No," the author answered. She only wanted to return home and just rest in bed. "I'm just looking forward to lying in bed with you."

Her husband laughed. "That's something I won't object to."

At least she was back in high spirits.

\-- 

John Smith ran a hand through his silver curls as he examined the paperwork piled up on his desk. The weekend had passed like a breeze and before he knew it, it was the middle of the week. He had been busier than usual today with him being dragged to the OR as soon as he set foot into his office and then being rushed to one of his other patients who suffered a minor heart attack.

The smartphone on the desk suddenly lit up and beeped. A message from his wife.

She had texted him to inform that she was waiting in the lounge for her appointment with Martha. At least he had something to look forward to now and can ignore the paperwork temporarily.

Things had certainly been sailing quite smoothly since John had told Clara about his father. Granted, he still didn't like talking about him, but to share his past with someone other than his mother was relieving. It felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

More than anything else, he no longer felt as if he would turn into a terrible father. Not with his wife by his side. He was even looking forward to the next ultrasound scan.

With a smile plastered on his face, John stepped out of his office and made his way to the lift to get to the waiting lounge where his wife is waiting for him.

Clara, on the other hand, had just reached the hospital when she texted her husband. As she sat down in one of the empty chairs in the lounge, a man in a dark coat strode past her and made his way to the reception desk.

She paused, remembering seeing the same coat the last time she was here. It was the same man who stood outside the hospital. The man she thought seemed familiar.

His back faced her, and she wished she had chosen a different seat. Regardless, she was still able to overhear him.

"Hi," the man said hesitantly, leaning heavily on his cane. "Is… Does Dr John Smith work here?" he asked. He was definitely Scottish. The thick accent was a dead giveaway.

There was a voice at the back of her head which told her that this man could very well be John's father, but it was too early to make any assumptions. Her husband has plenty of patients and some of them could very well be from Scotland.

"He does," the nurse behind the desk replied. "Do you have an appointment with him?"

The man glanced around and made eye contact with Clara.

She sat in her seat quietly before looking away, trying to not look shocked. The man had the exact same attack eyebrows as her husband.

"Sir?" the nurse said, snapping the old man out his thoughts. "Do you have an appointment with Dr Smith?"

He took a quick glance at Clara who was now reading a magazine.

"No."

"Would you like to book an appointment?"

He hesitated for a moment before making up his mind. "No, no, that won't be necessary," he stated before turning around and walking away.

Clara's eyes followed him until he disappeared outside. She lowered the magazine she held in her hands.

"Were you spying on someone?"

The deep voice startled her, and she nearly dropped it.

"Sorry," John apologised sheepishly. "Didn't mean to startle you."

She opened her mouth, but no words came out and the only thing the author could do was to point at the entrance as the man returned and queued up.

The surgeon furrowed his brows before turning around. He had missed him by a split second. "Are you alright?"

Clara nodded. "I'm fine," she insisted. "There's just something I have to ask you."

Her husband shrugged. "Fire away."

"Is your father still alive?" she whispered, and his face darkened.

"Why are you asking this now?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"Oh, hello again," said the nurse, surprised that the gentleman was back.

"I'd… I'd like to book an appointment."

John froze as he heard the voice. He stared at his wife with a blank expression on his face before deciding to be brave and turn around.

The old man once again felt a pair of eyes staring at him, so he glanced to his left and was greeted by the sight of John Smith who was now on his feet, eyes full of anger.

"Could I get your name, sir?" the nurse asked.

Jeremy Smith turned to her and gave her a sorry smile. "I apologise for wasting your time."

He slowly walked towards John.

"We should go," he said to Clara, helping her stand. "Martha's waiting for us."

"John," Jeremy began but it fell on deaf ears as his son merely walked past him.

"Maybe we should-" Clara began, but he said nothing as he ushered her into the lift.

She saw her father-in-law staring at them before the doors closed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! :)  
> Enjoy!

The lift began moving slowly to the fifth floor and the two occupants remained silent. John was still fuming with anger while Clara was choosing her words carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was make the situation worse.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, gently wrapping his hand around her arm. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head. "No, I was just surprised…"

"At how harsh I was?" he finished.

That was one way to put it, but she decided to remain silent. They still have an appointment with Martha, after all.

She was the first to step out of the lift, freeing herself from his hold. She had never seen her husband so angry before and it scared her a bit.

"Clara," John began as they made their way to Martha's office.

"We have an appointment, it can wait," she whispered, avoiding eye contact and settling down on the sofa.

Her husband opened his mouth, but no words came out as Dr Martha Jones stepped out and beamed at the couple. "Mr and Mrs Smith," she said teasingly before her smile disappeared. They look tensed. Well, a better description for it would be that John looks devastated while Clara looks upset.

The author stood up and forced a smile. "Hi, Martha."

"Are you two ok?" she asked in concern, stepping aside to let them into the office.

"Yeah," Clara answered while John cleared his throat. "Just a bit tired."

Martha decided to let it go since it was clearly an issue between the couple. Besides, she had work to do. "How are you since we last met?"

The appointment lasted a little over an hour and went well.

The former school teacher knew she should feel pleased and happy, but she wasn't. How could she after what happened in the lobby earlier?

They didn't speak much on the way home. In fact, most of the car journey was filled with silence. Clara had so many questions running through her mind, but she wasn't sure if it was wise to ask them now.

John, on the other hand, wanted to pretend he hadn't met his father at the hospital. He wanted the issue to go away immediately, but he knew that wasn't going to happen and that avoiding it would only cause more problems.

"Would you like to stop by anywhere?" he asked, unable to bear the silence.

His wife looked away from the window. "No," she said and paused for a brief moment. "Are you alright?"

The surgeon's eyes focused on the road. "Yeah," he answered, clearing his throat. "I'm fine."

"We can talk about it."

John inhaled deeply. "What is there to talk about?"

"John!" Clara growled. That was his weakness. Running away from his problems.

"There really is nothing to talk about," he argued. "He showed up and that was it."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "It wouldn't hurt to talk about your feelings once in a while – you were clearly angry, but I know how upsetting it must have been."

He remained quiet until they were about to reach home. "Yes, I did find it upsetting," he admitted, almost in a whisper. "If he thinks he can just show up and expect things to be all sunshine and rainbow, he's wrong."

Clara extended an arm and placed her hand on his thigh. "You have every right to be angry with him… I can't imagine what it must have been like to be in your shoes."

John had expected his wife to start coaxing to at least meet his father again and see what he has to say. "It was horrible."

"But maybe when the time is right," she said carefully. "You could have a proper talk with him – he's your father, after all."

The surgeon said nothing as he parked the car by the porch. Just before Clara stepped out of the vehicle, her husband reached for her hand, and she leaned back against the seat. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

She smiled at him. "No, John, you didn't."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, knowing he had hurt her in a different way.

"There is something on my mind."

He waited for her to continue.

"When your dad came to the hospital, he looked sick – he wanted to book an appointment with you."

There was no doubt where this conversation was going.

"If he asks for your help, promise me you won't turn him away," she said, staring into his steel blue eyes. There was stubbornness at first, but then it was replaced by resignation.

"I promise."

Clara beamed before she leaned forward and pecked John on the lips. "Now that's the John Smith I know," she murmured, stepping out and he mimicked her. "There is one another thing, though."

He locked the car before heading to the front door. "What's that?" he asked, pushing the door open to let his wife in.

"My feet are aching a bit."

John chuckled. "Ah, I'm at your command, Mrs Smith."

\-- 

"Alright, what's going on?"

John looked up from the newspaper he was reading on the desk, brows furrowed in confusion as to why his best friend had suddenly stormed into the break room. "What?"

Martha placed both hands on her hips and arched a brow. "I've been hearing lots of things since yesterday and especially this morning."

Oh. She was probably referring to the incident with his father. Of course, people would start talking about it. He had behaved immaturely. "I'm not going to kick him out of the hospital if he needs help if that's what you're wondering."

He had checked the reception this morning to see if his father had been admitted or booked an appointment, but that hasn't happened, yet.

Martha had known John for ten years and throughout those years, he had never mentioned his father once. She had assumed his father had passed away a long time ago. "So, it's true then, that was your dad?"

"Yes," he sighed.

It explained why he and Clara were acting strangely.

"Look," Martha began, sitting next to him. "I don't know what's going on between you and him, but just remember that you're a doctor."

The Doctor to Clara, if Martha dared to admit.

He nodded, eyes returning to the newspaper. "I know."

"How's Clara?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Fine," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "Funnily enough, she told me the same thing you did, more or less."

His colleague laughed. "That's because you have people looking out for you."

Finally, John smiled. That was a reassuring thought. One he wouldn't mind being reminded of.

"Anyway, are you looking forward to the next sonogram – it's very likely you'll find out if the baby's going to be a boy or a girl."

He had completely forgotten about it. Clara is three months pregnant now and in a month or two they would be able to find out the gender of the baby. She pointed it out every time she looked at the printout of the ultrasound.

His fear of becoming a father had returned, but he knew that they were unfounded and decided to focus on other things.

"I'm not sure if I want to know or if I want it to be a surprise," he admitted. "I'm torn between the two."

"I'm sure Clara wants to, so you're going to find out either way."

The surgeon shrugged with a smile. "I don't mind – whatever makes her happy."

At the end of the day, John was back at home with his wife. He had been lounging in the living room, head rested on Clara's lap as he lied down on the sofa, reading a book. His wife had buried one hand in his soft silver curls, gently running her fingers through them while watching a drama.

John's phone started ringing and he immediately pulled it out of the pocket of his trousers. When he saw his mother's name flash on the screen, the surgeon immediately sat up and answered the call. His action caused Clara to giggle quietly and she mouthed 'mummy's boy'.

He glared at her jokingly as he talked to his mother. She had just decided to call him on a whim, asking if he and Clara were fine since she hadn't heard from him for almost two weeks.

"Yeah," the surgeon answered as he leaned back against the sofa, his wife resting her head on his chest. "Sorry, mum, I should have called sooner – I've been very busy."

Suddenly, Clara lifted her head. "Maybe you should tell mum what happened yesterday."

A look of uncertainty washed over John's face and she nodded in reassurance.

"Work's fine… um… there's just something that I have to tell you what happened yesterday," he explained. "Dad came to the hospital looking for me."

The conversation lasted for almost ten minutes with John talking over the phone while Clara remained silent. Once it ended, he looked at her.

"Mum sends her love," he said.

The author beamed before she got straight to the point. "So what did she say?"

Her husband cleared his throat, resting his cheek against her head. "I shouldn't treat him how he treated me," he began. "And that she heard from a friend that the old man suffered a heart attack last year… I guess that's why he came looking for me."

She placed a hand on his cheek. "You told me you haven't seen him for over two decades… I'm sure he's changed."

John huffed. A man like his father? Very unlikely.

"I'm not asking you to forgive him," she stated. "But don't be cruel either."

He kissed her head and caressed her belly.

John didn't feel like he was ready to see his father just yet. The old man never cared for him or his mother, after all, but deep down, he knew that he would have to face him at some point.

Regardless, he would make sure that Jeremy Smith stays away from his family.

\-- 

**Three Months Later**

Clara placed a had on her swollen belly as she slowly trod down the staircase, helped by her husband. "I can't believe doing something as simple as walking down the stairs now feels like I'm going to slip at any moment."

"If it makes you feel any better, you look even more gorgeous now," John complimented sincerely as they finally reached the final step.

She rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"But it is true."

The author giggled before she got on her toes and pecked him on the lips. "Where's the present?"

The couple were getting ready for Melody Pond's second birthday party. Amy had told them that the event would start at noon and they intended on being there on time.

"In the car – I got everything ready."

"How very thoughtful of you," Clara said, as John helped her put on the coat. It was a chilly October, despite the sun shining brightly.

"Just trying to make things are easy as possible for Mrs Smith," he said, grinning. He opened the door and helped her to the car.

Before entering the vehicle himself, the surgeon made sure to lock the front door and double checking that Melody's present was indeed in the back seat.

"I bet Melody will be over the moon when she sees you," Clara teased as her husband started the engine.

"That's what happens when you're a great uncle," he replied. "But if it's any consolation, she's going to be even happier to see Aunty Clara again – she might ask why your stomach's gotten bigger, though."

His wife laughed, and it was music to his ears. "It's only going to get bigger."

Just then, Clara's phone beeped. She had received a text message. From Danny.

From the corner of his eyes, John could tell that it wasn't exactly happy news. "Bad news?" he asked, eyes on the road.

"No, it's Danny – he said he's paid me back my money this morning," she said.

Then why did she look slightly annoyed? "And that's bad because?"

"He insists on buying me lunch as a way of saying thank you next Saturday," she continued. "You're working on that Saturday, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm covering Mark's shift – half day since he's on emergency leave."

Clara pondered her options. "I think I'll choose a restaurant close by."

The following week was also when the couple would do another sonogram to check the baby's gender. The first time they tried, Martha wasn't able to tell since the ultrasound didn't give a clear view.

"You could always just suggest the cafeteria," John joked.

"I don't want to seem passive aggressive," his wife stated before changing the subject. "Anyway, I hope we'll be able to find out if we're having a boy or a girl."

He beamed. Oh, that was something he's very much looking forward to.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! Ready for the angst?

"Aunty Cla!" Melody Pond shrieked when she saw her beloved aunt in the hallway. The two-year-old ran to Clara as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.

"Hello, Melody," she said before her husband scooped the little girl up into his arms.

John grinned at the toddler. "Are you really Melody - you've grown a lot since I last saw you."

"Uncle John!"

"Well, well, well," Amy chided as she set a stack of plates on the table, situated in the middle of the living room. "Look who's finally here – the sickeningly sweet couple."

Clara hugged her best friend after setting aside the present she held. "You're never going to get tired of calling us that, are you?"

The lawyer shrugged innocently. "Never - make yourselves at home – Rory!"

"Yes, I'm just making sure the ice-cream cake doesn't melt," he replied from the kitchen.

"Cake, cake, cake!" Melody exclaimed when she heard her father mention it. John immediately handed her to Clara who was now seated on the sofa.

"You'll get it to eat it very soon," the author said, the toddler now squirming a bit and reaching out her arms to her mother.

"Melody Pond, behave yourself," Amy murmured. Her child now sat between the two women.

"Do you need any help?" John asked as he now awkwardly stood in the centre of the room.

"No, that was the only thing I needed to do," Rory insisted as he entered the living room. The two men shook hands.

While the adults were chatting, Melody's inquisitive eyes stared at her aunt's swollen belly. She had never seen her like that before, which prompted her to ask the question, "Why big?".

"Your Aunty Clara is pregnant," Amy told her daughter.

The two-year-old stared at her mother her before her gaze returned to her aunt.

"I have a baby inside here," Clara explained, rubbing her stomach, which caused Melody's eyes to widen.

John watched as his wife patiently answered all of the toddler's questions from the hallway, a bottle of beer in one hand.

Rory, on the other hand, smiled. "Kids are very curious aren't they," he stated.

"They are, but I think Melody is extra curious," John replied, eyes never leaving his wife. A small smile was playing on his lips. God, he absolutely loves her and their child she's carrying.

"Trust me, she asks about everything and gets even more talkative when her grandad's around."

John imagined that their child will be just as curious, especially if he or she ends up inheriting Clara's attitude. He didn't mind if it's going to be a boy or girl for as long as the baby is healthy. That was all that mattered. Oh, and he secretly hopes the child would look more like their mother since he doesn't want the poor kid to end up with his bushy, expressive eyebrows or nose that sticks out.

Clara had told him countless times that she finds him handsome, but he was sure she was saying that to boost his confidence a bit.

His wife glanced to her right and caught him staring at her and she immediately smiled.

"You two really can't get your eyes off each for a second, can you?" Amy teased, causing the couple to blush.

At that moment, the front door clicked open and Brian Williams stepped inside, one hand carrying a paper bag. "I got the balloons!" he announced triumphantly.

With the little incident now forgotten as Melody climbed down the sofa and ran to her grandfather, John finally relaxed a bit.

The house was eventually filled with more friends and family members, and the birthday girl got more and more excited as the presents kept piling up on the table by the corner.

A little over two hours later, John and Clara Smith were back home.

"Did you see how excited she was when she saw the archaeology set we got her," Clara commented as she entered the kitchen and got herself a glass of water.

"I think you owe me a kiss for winning the bet," John replied, grinning from ear to ear.

His wife gave an innocent look. "Did we really have a bet?"

"We did – you wanted to buy Melody that playdough set, remember?" he reminded her, a wide smile still plastered on his face.

"Wasn't it the other way around?"

He raised both eyebrows in surprise and she finally laughed. Clara grabbed the lapels of his jacket before she crushed her lips against his. "I was just pulling your leg a bit."

"Who would have thought," he muttered and bent down to capture her lips.

"Oh, and don't forget about Friday's appointment," she reminded him once they pulled away.

He had unfortunately missed the two previous appointment due to work commitments and Clara hopes that he wouldn't miss the third one. She understood that her husband is a busy man, but there was a voice at the back of her head which told her he was still scared at the prospect of becoming a parent, that he would be a rubbish one who didn't love his child. Maybe the irrationality was due to the hormones since he's just as excited as she is. At least in her presence.

"I won't," he murmured. He couldn't promise her that he wouldn't be swept away to another emergency operation, but he had cleared his schedule for Friday evening.

It had been three months since he had last seen his father and despite knowing and being told he was a much better man than Jeremy Smith, John still had his doubts. The more time passed, the closer he was to becoming a father.

The surgeon was snapped out of his thoughts when his wife placed a hand on his cheek. "Hey, I know it's scary, but it's also exciting… no one said this is going to be easy, but I'm sure we'll pull through – you'll pull through."

Finally, he smiled. John pecked Clara on the lips before he bent down and kissed her belly. "Thank you."

\-- 

The day had been quite mundane so far. John Smith had done his rounds, the patients were all fine and the junior doctors weren't having any issues dealing with their tasks. It was all going smoothly. On top of that, his wife has an appointment with Martha in less than five minutes and they were going to see if they're expecting a boy or a girl.

A small smile formed on his lips. Clara hadn't been able to stop talking about it since yesterday and she would surely start thinking of names after the ultrasound.

Just then, the phone in his pocket vibrated and he knew that his wife was probably waiting for him. He checked the message and she had told him she would be waiting on the 5th floor so he wouldn't have to pick her up downstairs. Fair enough.

The surgeon checked the time again before he got on his feet and grabbed his jacket before leaving the office. He wanted to get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria first.

As John made his way past the main lobby, several people rushed past him, including his colleague, Wilfred Mott. He could see that there was a group of people gathered in the main lobby and it piqued his curiosity.

"He just collapsed a moment ago," a woman said as John made his way past the crowd.

"He's going into cardiac arrest," Wilfred announced.

John froze in his spot when he saw the old man lying on the floor. He nearly dropped his coffee when Jeremy made eye contact and reached out a hand.

It took him a second to regain his composure. "What's going on?" he asked, ignoring his father who tried to grab his arm and rushing to his colleague's side.

"Heart attack, it's definitely a heart attack," Wilfred replied as Jeremy was put on a stretcher. It was then he saw the recognition in John's eyes. "Do you know him?"

John was silent for a moment but never got the chance to answer his friend's question as his father was wheeled away, Wilfred following them.

Eventually, the crowd dispersed, but the surgeon remained still in the centre. What had just happened?

He was snapped out of his thoughts when his phone vibrated once again. Clara. The appointment. He quickly made his way to the lift and stepped inside. Less than two minutes later, he stormed into Martha' office, almost spilling his coffee.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, taking a seat next to his wife.

The two women were startled by his sudden appearance.

"We thought you had an emergency," Clara murmured. "You didn't answer your phone."

The appointment had started twenty minutes ago. She was so sure that her husband had missed another appointment and he wouldn't be able to find out about their baby together.

John opened to speak but decided to let it go. He could explain to her why he had been running late after the sonogram. "Sorry, I went downstairs to get coffee," he said, holding up the cup.

Martha then got down to business. "As we were discussing earlier," she stated. "I'm confident we'll be able to tell the gender of the baby this time."

"Great."

A few minutes later, Clara was lying on a bed while Martha began the ultrasound scan. An image on the screen appeared and they were greeted by the sight of the baby.

The obstetrician suddenly smiled.

The fact that she hadn't said anything made John feel even more anxious. "Well?"

"Please tell me the baby isn't giving you a hard time again," Clara said.

Martha turned away from the monitor to look at the couple. "Congratulations, you're having a boy!"

Clara squealed in happiness and squeezed John's hand. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "I knew it was going to be a boy."

John, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, staring back and forth between the monitor and his wife.

"Yeah, you're definitely getting a baby boy."

"I'm going to be making so many phone calls today," Clara commented, beaming. "I can just imagine Nan's reaction."

John chuckled, kissing Clara's hair. "I'm sure she'll be over the moon."

"And mum, too!"

\-- 

"So why were you late to the appointment today?" Clara asked as she settled in bed, next to her husband.

John continued to flick through the channels. He knew the conversation was coming and had been preparing himself for it. He licked his lips before muting the TV and turning to her.

"I left the office to get coffee at the cafeteria before the appointment," he began, running a hand through his silver curls.

"Go on," she replied, eyes fixed on the copy of the ultrasound.

"Um… on my way upstairs, a man suffered a heart attack," he continued.

The moment she heard 'heart attack', Clara lowered the photograph, uncertainty in her eyes.

"Wilfred was already there and when I got past the crowd… it turned out to be dad."

Clara blinked once. Twice. "And you're only telling me this now?" she asked quietly. "Were you ever going to mention this?"

He remained silent, a pair of cold eyes staring at her before he looked away.

"Did you ever intend on helping him?"

"Wilfred was there-"

"I don't care about anyone else – I'm asking if you would have helped him!" Clara snapped.

He couldn't make eye contact with her. John wasn't sure. The doctor in him would but as John Smith? It was difficult to tell.

"Where is he now?"

"At the hospital, I'm sure they've put him in ICU," he answered, the image of his father reaching out to him flashing in his mind.

"Would you have helped him if Wilfred wasn't there?"

It took him a while to answer. "I don't know."

Suddenly, Clara threw away the covers and climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, doing the same.

"I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom."

"What?" he asked. "Are you mad at me because my father had a heart attack and I wasn't the first one to help him?"

She turned around, placing a hand on her belly. "I'm mad at you for being a coward – he may have been a rubbish father, but he's still a human being."

He stared at her with a neutral expression on his face. "You have no idea what I've been through – he was a selfish, abusive and unloving father!" he roared, causing his wife to flinch.

Clara could feel the tears prickling her eyes, so she silently turned around and made her way to the guest bedroom.

John hadn't meant to yell at her. It just happened. He had no control over it. "Clara," he began, following her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't, I'd rather not look at you now," she said before slamming the door in his face.

He lowered his head and leaned his forehead against the door as his wife began sobbing on the other side. She was in no condition to hear any of his apologies, so John returned to the bedroom, shoulders slumped.

He paced around the bedroom, hands turned to fists. This wasn't how he imagined it would turn out. Damn his father for coming back to his life. If he thinks all will be forgiven just because he suffered a stroke, he was wrong.

Damn his father for ruining a happy day.

John exhaled through his mouth, fighting back the tears. He had upset his wife and he had acted selfishly instead of helping a sick old man. "Fuck!" he roared, pulling his hair.

Instead of celebrating that they were going to have a baby boy, they were having another argument. The day had turned sour very quickly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support! Let the angst really begin! ;)

Neither John nor Clara got much sleep that night. Both were too upset to get enough rest and occupied by what they had said to the other. They knew they should have been a lot more patient with one another, but it was too late for that now.

Clara was the first to rise that morning. She felt exhausted, despite getting a few hours of sleep and not to mention hungry. Besides, today was the day she would be meeting Danny, and hopefully for the last time.

She had also made the decision to confront her estranged father-in-law. She wanted answers and she would get them. By hook or by crook.

Slowly, the author sat up before checking the time on the bedside table. 6:47. John was probably up by now, but he's probably still in the bedroom.

Half an hour later, she was sitting at the table, munching on a piece of toast and waiting for her husband to come downstairs.

As she was about to finish her meal, Clara heard footsteps coming from the staircase and a moment later, John entered the kitchen.

To say that he looked tired would be an understatement. There were bags under his eyes, his shirt wasn't properly tucked in and his silver curls looked messier than usual.

They locked eyes briefly before he silently took a seat next to her and reached for the coffee mug. The surgeon had only managed to get three hours of sleep. He kept tossing and turning, despite being in his own bed. He had plenty of time to think about their argument the previous night and it led him to the decision of visiting his father in the ICU unit. Only him. He doesn't want to introduce his family to such a man.

"Are we still going to have lunch after work?" John mumbled, holding the mug to his mouth.

Clara glanced at him. "I've been thinking a lot last night," she began.

"So have I," he added, looking straight at her.

"I'm sorry for overreacting… I've just been feeling crossed a lot lately."

No doubt it has something to do with her mood swings. One moment she was happy, the next thing he knew was that his wife was feeling upset or complaining she was getting fat, which something he did not agree with. He kept trying to tell her she's as gorgeous as ever, if not more so, but she shrugged it off.

"Me too, I'm sorry for yelling," he said and grasped her hand.

Clara squeezed his hand. "The only way we can stop this is by confronting your father."

Her husband arched a brow. "What are you suggesting?" he asked. "I don't want him near my family – I'll go and see him if that's what you want."

"John," she began, but he cut her off.

"I love you so much, Clara and our son, too," he murmured. "But I'm not letting him get near you or the baby."

John finished his breakfast and stood up.

"And that's final."

"Maybe he's changed-"

The surgeon shook his head. "I doubt that – we're done," he said, freeing his hand from his wife's grip.

It would seem that they wouldn't be having lunch together, after all, much to Clara's dismay.

\-- 

Dr John Smith was still in a bit of a foul mood by the time he reached the hospital. Things certainly didn't improve when one of his patients refused to take her medication and started throwing a bit of a fit, which required her to be sedated.

He would be free of work in just an hour. All he had to do was make sure things were running smoothly.

As the surgeon was about to step into his office, someone called his name.

"John!"

Dr Wilfred Mott.

"Wilf," he acknowledged before stepping inside.

The two have been good friends since the day John started working at the hospital. Wilf had been kind enough to show him around the hospital on the first day, helping him familiarise with the place.

"What can I help you with?" John asked calmly, plopping on the swivelling chair.

His colleague did the same before clearing his throat. "I'm sure you remember the man from yesterday," he began softly. "I'll get straight to the point – one of his arteries was clogged."

John nodded, a sudden coldness in his eyes which Wilf had never seen before.

"His heart is already in a bad shape, but the next best thing to do is obviously graft surgery," he continued explaining and then paused. "Jeremy woke up earlier this morning."

John knew exactly where the conversation was steering. Wilf had clearly figured it out. Why else would he start explaining the state of the patient?

"He's asking for you – he's asking for his son."

When Wilf didn't get a single response, except for the cold eyes, the cardiologist sighed. "I may not know much about your past, John, but I would take the time to speak to him."

A moment later, John nodded, eyes now looking at his desk. "Thank you, Wilf… thank you."

He stood up before placing a hand on John's shoulder. "He's in 812A," he stated. "And if you think you should be the one performing the surgery, please let me know."

"When is it?"

"Next Thursday."

Without another word, Wilf left the office, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

Clara is right, and so is Wilfred. He would eventually have to confront his father at some point, so he might as well get it over with. What intrigued him, however, was how his father got to this point.

John was convinced that the old man was leading a happy and care-free life away from the family he abandoned until now, that is.

Silently, he planted his feet on the ground and headed for the door.

No less than five minutes later, John Smith was staring at another door. There was a sign plastered on it, which said '812A'. The surgeon took a deep breath before pulling down the door handle and entering the room.

Jeremy Smith was lying in bed, eyes closed, and there was a monitor next to him which showed the steady rhythm of his heartbeats. His skin was paler than John had remembered, and he looked sick, almost as if he was dying.

Not wanting to wake his father up, he sat down in the empty armchair next to the bed, staring at the old man.

Suddenly, Jeremy started coughing before his eyes flickered. "John…" he mumbled, blinking several times.

His son stood still, face devoid of any emotion.

"When did you get here?" Jeremy asked weakly.

"Just now," John replied coldly.

Jeremy stared at his only child. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes in the past-"

"If you're here to bring that up, I'm leaving," the younger Smith growled.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to suggest that… I… the reason I wanted to see you that day was because I wanted to apologise... I've been wanting to see you for a while now..."

It's a little too late for that.

"Apologising isn't going to make up for or erase your past actions."

Jeremy coughed again. "I know you won't forgive me, but I still want to apologise," he sighed. "I've been a terrible father and husband to you and your mother, and I regret that… I was blinded by my ego and temper… I didn't know that I had everything until it was too late."

John's features softened for only a brief second.

"But enough about me... how are you, by the way?" his father asked. "You're married now, aren't you – do I have grandchildren?"

"What makes you think I'm going to allow you back into my life?" he asked through gritted teeth before standing up.

"John, please… I was just trying-"

"You never cared about me or mum, and now that you're lying in a hospital bed, you expect things to change?"

Jeremy looked down in shame. "I was young at that time, I was reckless and didn't think of others."

"Just like now," his son hissed.

He never got to finish his sentence as his son stormed out of the room, shutting the door a bit too roughly and causing Jeremy to flinch.

He sighed, closing his eyes. This was not how he imagined the conversation would end. He just wanted to talk to his son.

\-- 

Clara Smith checked her watch for the umpteenth time that day. She had no idea what possessed her to come to the café early, but it was probably for the best. She could come up with the excuse that she needed to be someplace else and it is true.

The author had planned to go straight to the hospital after the meeting to convince John to talk to his father and make sure he doesn't lose his temper. It was the only way to end this ridiculous fight between them.

"I hope you didn't have to wait for long," a voice said from behind.

Clara turned around. Danny was dressed in a pair of black slacks, complimented by a white shirt. He certainly looked better than the last time they had met.

"Please, you don't have to get up," he insisted and took the seat on the other end of the table.

Danny Pink had been very grateful when Clara had borrowed him some money and for her help with the job as a school teacher. He would have probably ended up being homeless if it wasn't for her and he wanted to repay her kindness.

The last time he had seen her was about four months ago. The bump wasn't visible all that much then, but it certainly is now. "So, um, how are you?" he asked nervously.

"I'm fine, Danny," she replied, forcing a smile before she remembered the previous day. "Just had another ultrasound yesterday and the baby's a boy."

Now it was the former soldier's turn to fake a smile. As much as he is happy for Clara, he regretted taking her for granted. Here she is now, pregnant with someone else's child. "You must be thrilled."

The former school teacher caressed her swollen belly. "I am," she murmured before her features became serious. "Look, Danny, I know you're grateful for what I did, but I really can't stay for lunch."

"Please," he pleaded. "I feel bad for troubling you, just let me make it up to you."

Danny then placed a hand on top of hers. "As friends," he said. "We're here as friends, having lunch together and catching up."

Clara pulled her hand away before sensing a pair of eyes staring at her. She glanced to her right and locked eyes with her husband. There was a look which she couldn't quite comprehend in his eyes.

Danny glanced in the same direction and pressed his lips together.

Nobody moved, as if they were frozen in time until John spun around and walked out of the café.

Clara was the second person to react as she immediately got on her feet, chasing after her spouse.

"Clara," Danny began.

"No," she hissed before sighing and closing her eyes for a brief second. "I have to go."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Forget about it," she said before leaving the café.

Just when things were slowly getting better, it went back downhill.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support! Let's see if our favourite idiots can settle their differences ;)

Clara Smith stepped out of the café, looking around the street for her husband. John could be quite the sensitive idiot and she knew he was hurt by what he saw. It was bad enough he thinks lowly of himself and now this.

The author spotted her spouse walking in the opposite direction and she started chasing after him. Well, more like walking briskly. She could barely run in her current condition. "John!" she called, and he stopped dead in his tracks before turning around to face her.

He shot her a cold look, not uttering a single word.

She felt like slapping his face.

"How was lunch?" John asked calmly.

They were not going to argue in public. Not like this. She was exhausted by everything right now. Her back was aching, it was freezing outside, and her husband is acting like an idiot.

"I want to go home," she said, almost like a command, and crossed her arms.

"Fine," he snapped before heading back to the hospital.

Clara trailed behind her husband, putting some distance between them and taking her time to reach the carpark.

Less than an hour later, they were home and as soon as the door shut, she said, "There is nothing going on between me and Danny if that's what you're worried about, he just wanted me to have lunch, but I told him I had other plans – what were you even doing there?"

"Didn't look like it from where I was standing," John grunted, hiding his hands in the pockets of his trousers. He had felt bad about how he had treated her in the morning and thought about buying his wife a souffle from the café, which was why he was there in the first place. He recalled Clara mentioning choosing a place to eat that was close to the hospital, but she never mentioned which. "It doesn't matter why I was there."

The former school teacher furrowed her brows. "So what, were you there to spy on me or something?" she demanded.

"Well, you seemed very cosy back at the café."

"How dare you!" Clara snapped. "I am carrying your child!"

He had completely forgotten about that during the argument, just spewing out words before he could think the better of it. Rather than give in, John stared at her.

"I am married to you, John, not to anybody else and I don't want anybody else!" she continued. "What is wrong with you?"

The surgeon sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. He had screwed up again. "Look," he said gently. "I wasn't implying that-"

"You certainly were," growled his wife.

When he reached out an arm, she slapped it away. "Clara."

"Don't touch me."

He would have followed her upstairs if it hadn't been for the doorbell. John returned to the hallway and opened the door.

"Hello, I'm here to deliver your order," a man wearing an IKEA uniform said.

John stared at him in confusion for a second. "What?"

The driver then checked the tablet he held. "I have an order for Clara Smith."

It then hit him that his wife had ordered a baby cot just last week and scheduled for it to be delivered today. "Oh, right, just put it in the hallway."

The IKEA man did as he was instructed and before he left, asked John to sign the digital document displayed on the electronic device. "Cheers, thanks, mate."

He shut the door and stared at the large brown box leaning against the wall. Eventually, he looked away from it and glanced at the staircase.

Silently, the soon-to-be father made his way upstairs and much to his dismay, Clara wasn't in the master bedroom. He knew exactly where she was, however, as the door to the guest-bedroom was shut.

John groaned, massaging his temple when suddenly, the doorbell rang once more. It was probably the IKEA delivery man again. He must have forgotten something since who else would pop in unexpectedly.

He went back downstairs and unlocked the front door before swinging it open. One person he hadn't expected seeing that day was his mother. "Mum?" he blurted, surprised that she was here, in London. She never mentioned anything about visiting them this weekend.

Claire smiled at her son. "Surprised, John?" she asked before hugging him and kissing his cheek. "You're not the only one who can plan surprises."

He cleared his throat, before stepping aside and helping her with the small suitcase. "Come in."

"Where's Clara?"

John cleared his throat. "She's upstairs – I'll go get her," he replied, walking up the staircase.

He knocked on the door urgently. "Clara, mum's here."

A second later, he heard footsteps from inside the guest bedroom and was face to face with his wife. "What?" she said, eyebrows knitted.

He merely held up the suitcase.

"Put that aside," she whispered while making the bed so that it wouldn't look like the room was occupied. "Distract her while I get this sorted."

John quickly put the suitcase in the corner before running back downstairs. "Clara's in the… bathroom… she'll be down shortly."

Claire stared at her son for only a moment before she looked away. "How have the two of you been?" she asked, settling down on the sofa.

"Fine," he answered automatically, running a hand through his hair.

If there was one thing Claire Smith is sure of, it's that things weren't fine, judging by how her son was behaving. She gave him a hard stare. "Fine?"

"John," Clara called from upstairs.

The surgeon immediately got on his feet as he knew exactly why she was calling him. A few moments later, the couple emerged from upstairs as they slowly descended the staircase.

"Hello, Mum," the author greeted before hugging her mother-in-law.

"Oh, look at you," Claire murmured, rubbing her back. "I got that picture you sent me last night, after a bit of difficulty finding it on my phone – you know how old people are with technology," she joked.

The married couple laughed as they sat down.

"You could have told us you were coming," John said.

"As I said, it was my turn to surprise the two of you, or rather the three of you," Claire said.

Clara forced a smile while her husband coughed.

\-- 

A few hours later, John Smith retreated to what used to be his study, now converted into a nursery. Not much has changed aside from painting the walls sky-blue.

He was currently seated on the carpet, trying to put together the cot which had arrived prior during the day.

"I like the colour you've chosen," commented his mother, startling him a bit.

"Clara was the one who chose it," he muttered, reading the instructions again.

Claire stared at her son before she shut the door quietly. "Is everything alright between you and Clara?"

"Yeah, there are just some things we don't agree upon and her mood swings are beyond unpredictable," John explained.

His mother chuckled. "That's just something almost every married man has to go through."

"I know… but there's also something you should know," he said, sounding more serious. "Dad has been hospitalised – he had a heart attack yesterday."

Claire and Jeremy had divorced almost thirty decades ago. She had initially chosen to stick to the surname Smith because she didn't want her only child to find out about it while he was still in school. He had started hating his father then and she didn't want to make things even worse. When they had separated, she couldn't care less what Jeremy was up to. They no longer had any connections to one another aside from their son.

Of course, every now and then, she would hear about her former husband from friends, including one where he suffered a stroke. She didn't think she'd be hearing it so soon again, let alone from her son.

"Oh," was all Claire managed. "How is he?"

"He's stable but a graft surgery's been planned for him – takes place on Thursday next week."

His mother shot him a confused look.

"One of his arteries is clogged so the surgeon will try to unclog it."

"You're not performing the surgery?" she inquired.

John shrugged, continuing to assemble the cot. "Haven't had much time to think about it – probably not he's just another stranger to me."

Claire silently watched her son put together the piece of furniture until she thought it was time to leave. "I remember you mentioning something to me a long time ago," she began, hand holding the door handle. "'Hate is always foolish'."

"And love is always wise," her son finished, lowering the Allen key he held.

A smile formed on her lips before she left the room.

\-- 

John carefully stepped into the master bedroom later that night. He had been seeking refuge in the nursery for the past few hours and there was no way in hell he was going to sleep on the floor in his own house.

His wife was lying in bed, scribbling something in her notebook. She didn't acknowledge him when he entered the room. He wasn't sure if that was a bad or good sign. Regardless, the surgeon cautiously climbed into bed.

He paused when Clara suddenly shut the notebook and placed it on the nightstand next to her before rolling over so that her back was facing him.

Oh, she was mad at him alright.

John settled under the covers, choosing his words carefully. With the lights switched off, he scooted closer to his wife,

"Come any closer and I'll detach something from you."

He stopped, not even daring to touch her. "You have every right of being cross with me."

The former school teacher did not utter a single word and he took it as a signal to continue.

"I shouldn't have said those things to you… I was emotional," he continued. "I felt bad about our argument yesterday and thought about buying you a souffle, which was why I was at the café."

The anger in Clara's eyes disappeared, but she still wouldn't face him.

"I had a talk with dad, earlier in the day, too."

"What happened?" she asked.

"I let my temper get the best of me," he admitted. "I've been acting childish."

She finally turned around. "We both have, but I'm still mad at you."

A smile formed on his lips. "I deserve it and if it makes you feel any better, I put together the cot – it looks nice."

"Thank you," Clara murmured. "In a way, I do find it amusing that you got jealous, I mean look at me, I'm fat."

"For the last time, Mrs Smith, you are not fat – you're six months pregnant," her husband reasoned, placing his hand on her belly.

"He was kicking me just after dinner."

John grinned. "He probably wanted to say that the meal you and mum cooked was delicious."

"Or maybe he missed his daddy."

He leaned in and captured her lips in a soft and gentle kiss. "Why not both?"

Clara caressed his cheek.

"You're not going to detach something from me, are you?" he asked jokingly.

The couple ended up laughing together.

"How's your dad, by the way?"

The surgeon cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. "In bad condition, Wilf said he needs graft surgery."

"English, please."

"One of his arteries is clogged, so I have to unclog the artery."

She snuggled closer to him, feeling that he hasn't finished talking just yet.

"Wilf asked me if I wanted to perform the surgery."

Clara looked up. "What did you say?" she asked.

"I'd think about it," her husband replied, shrugging.

It was his choice at the end of the day and she had a feeling he had already made up his mind, but there was no harm in reminding who he is. "Once upon a time, you told me why you became a doctor," she began.

"Hmm," he hummed, caressing her arm. He could recall their conversation vividly. Clara had wondered why he chose to become a doctor, spending countless hours at the hospital with little to no sleep on some days. She had told him she was willing to share him with his work, but she needed to know.

"You do what you do because it's right – it's decent, and above all, it's kind," she continued.

"Who I am is where I stand," he added.

It is true. He only wants to help people. Some may live and some may die, but what matters is that he tries to save as many as possible. It didn't matter who those people were or are.

Clara placed a hand on his chest, above his beating heart. "So, doctor, where do you stand?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your amazing support! :)

"Oh, doesn't this look cute?" Claire Smith cooed as she held up a blue onesie with a picture of the TARDIS stitched on it.

Clara beamed. "It does," she answered, examining it. "But I'm not sure how I feel about making my son wear merchandise that I licensed."

"I see nothing wrong with it."

The author pondered for a moment before putting the onesie into the shopping basket. "No harm in buying one."

Just then, her phone started ringing. It was none other than John. He was probably getting tired of waiting outside Primark with all those shopping bags.

"How much longer are you and mum going to be in there – I feel like having a drink if you're going to be in there for a while," he grumbled.

Clara supported the phone using her shoulder, showing her mother-in-law a pair of baby mittens. "These match the onesie," she whispered.

"What matches the onesie?"

"Nothing," she replied immediately. "We're almost done – just spare us another five minutes, please."

"Fine," John sighed on the other end. "I'll take the TARDIS and see you in five minutes."

She giggled before hanging up.

"I'm guessing he's tired of waiting?" Claire commented as the two headed for the cashier.

"You know how impatient he gets when it comes to shopping," Clara replied, laughing. She peered back into the shopping basket and smiled. Just a few months from now and she would have her little boy in her arms.

Five minutes later, the two women finally emerged from Primark and John immediately grabbed the shopping bags sitting on the pavement. "Finally," he sighed.

"I'm sorry you had to wait so long, but someone needs to be the driver and butler," his wife joked.

"I became just that when I married you."

Claire couldn't help but smile as she silently observed the couple. Their son would probably get sick over how affectionate his parents are very quickly.

"Where to?" the surgeon asked.

"Lunch, and then King's Cross," Claire answered.

"Do you need to stop by anywhere else?" her daughter-in-law asked.

She shook her head. "No, Gary probably misses me by now."

After having lunch at a restaurant located near the train station, the couple sent off Claire before returning home.

"Just how many clothes did you buy?" John asked as he set the large carrying bag next to the staircase.

"Loads," his wife answered, grinning. "I just couldn't help it – there were so many adorable onesies, mittens, socks-"

He suddenly captured her lips, cupping her face with both hands.

"What was that for?" Clara whispered once they pulled away, a smile playing on her lips.

Her husband merely shrugged before he bent down and planted a kiss on her belly. "Just wanted to show how much I love you and the baby," he murmured before his eyes lit up. Placing a gentle hand on her swollen stomach, he said, "You're not even born yet, and you're already spoiled rotten by your mummy."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "As if you're not going to spoil him."

"I didn't buy a whole warehouse of baby clothes," John answered, grinning.

His features then became serious. "By the way," he continued. "I thought about what you said last night."

"And?"

"You're right, I'll be performing the surgery – he's still a sick patient at the end of the day."

The smile on Clara's face grew bigger. "Now that's the John Smith I married," she murmured before kissing him.

John kissed her back, savouring the taste of her lips against his. For as long as he has his family, he can go through anything.

\-- 

Dr John Basil Smith sat behind his desk, both arms resting against the armrest, using the silent morning to his advantage. It was three days until his father would undergo graft surgery and John would be informing Wilf of his decision.

He hadn't informed his father yet of the last-minute changes and he would obviously have to do it before the operation, but for now, he would have to speak to his colleague.

John was snapped out of his train of thought when a knock was heard. He cleared his throat before instructing the person to come in.

"I got your email about wanting to discuss something later today, but I thought I'd just drop by at your office now," Wilf explained, sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

"Yes, about that," John began. "Is it alright if I take over Jeremy Smith's operation?"

"I was the one who offered it to you, so yes – Bill can be your number two."

He nodded. "That's what I thought."

Wilf nodded. He had known John for a very long time and knew he would be professional, regardless of who the patient is. "I'll inform Jeremy, then."

The phone in the coat of his pocket began beeping and he immediately pulled it out, carefully reading the message.

"What do you know, he wants to have a word with me," he said.

John shrugged, thinking nothing of it. "Well, I won't keep you here much longer, then."

The two men laughed before Wilf left the office and headed straight for the ward.

"Dr Mott," Jeremy greeted in a raspy voice.

"Hello, Jeremy," the cardiologist replied. "The nurse said you wanted to talk about something?"

He nodded, sitting up a bit. "I've decided not to proceed with the surgery."

The surgeon stared at him in shock before blinking. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to undergo the operation."

"Jeremy," Wilf began, but the old man shook his head.

"Nothing you say will change my mind, Dr Mott," he explained. "I'm already dying – I doubt the surgery will do much to improve my health - besides, I don't feel as if I'm prepared for it."

Wilf didn't expect to face such surprising news when he came into work today. He couldn't force Jeremy to do the operation. "Would it help if I told you that John has agreed to be the one to fix your heart?"

Jeremy paused for a few moments, a look of shock washed over his face. He felt touched. "No, I'm sure he has other patients to attend to."

"Are you sure about this?" Wilf asked. "The medication can only do so much - the surgery will help with-"

"I'm already in bad condition," the old man laughed. "I don't want to have surgery."

The cardiologist didn't have much of a choice, so he nodded in resignation.

\-- 

John unlocked the door to the front house, balancing the two heavy paper bags with one hand as he pushed the door open before setting the food on the small desk in the hallway and locking the door.

The house was quiet and the lights in the kitchen were off. Clara wasn't in her study either so that meant she was upstairs, probably sleeping.

Silently, he placed dinner on the counter in the kitchen before taking the stairs.

As gently as he could, he opened the door and stuck his head inside.

Clara lay on the bed, the duvet covering half her torso as she slept quietly. John couldn't help but smile, tiptoeing into the bedroom and slowly sinking down on the bed. He loosened the top two buttons of his shirt and took off the black socks.

He glanced back and saw that her phone was in her palm, so he carefully slid it out. 'Top 100 Boy Names' was displayed on the screen. Looks like she's been a bit busy.

"When did you get back?" Clara asked sleepily, startling him.

"Just five minutes ago," he answered, placing the electronic device on the nightstand.

She inhaled deeply. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep," she murmured, eyes still closed.

John smiled as he kissed her head. "It's alright, you need to rest, anyway," he whispered. "I got us take away if you feel like eating right now."

"Mhhmm," she groaned, snuggling him. "Maybe in a few minutes."

He chuckled, draping an arm around her. "Take all the time you need."

"Where did my phone go?" Clara asked, lifting her head.

Her husband handed her the smartphone. "Looking at baby names?"

"I was – found a few that I like."

"Which are?"

She grinned. "Peter is one."

He couldn't disagree with her and he likes the name, so he let her continue.

"Matthew…"

"As in Matt Smith?" John inquired.

She nodded, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "I don't think you'd agree with 'John'."

"No, it's too common."

Clara looked up. "So are 'Peter' and 'Matt'."

"You know what I mean," he grumbled.

She giggled. "Ok, so," she continued. "There's Christopher, William and Michael."

John wrinkled his nose. "I like the first two names better, but I still think we should keep on looking," he said, caressing her arm.

"Do you have any names in mind?"

"No, not at the moment," he murmured.

John didn't have much time to think about anything else since he went to work. His mind was currently preoccupied over why his father had suddenly refused to undergo surgery. It was strange.

His wife snapped him out of his thoughts. "How's work – you're doing that thinking face again when you're trying to figure something out."

The surgeon glanced at her, slightly surprised at how well she knew him. God, he loves this woman. "Fine, it's just that um… Wilf told me that dad doesn't want to go ahead with the operation."

"What?"

"He had made up his mind before Wilf told him I'd be taking over," John added.

Clara knitted her eyebrows. "So what happens now?"

"Nothing – the doctors can't force him to do it."

"Did you at least talk to him?"

This time, John remained silent and his wife knew the answer immediately.

"You should have – talk to him as his son and maybe he'll change his mind."

He had no intention of talking to his father since John knew him well. Once his father has made up his mind, it's final.

Clara had a good guess of what her husband was thinking. She didn't want to start another fight after only recently making up. No, she had a completely different idea since she didn't have much of a choice. It was funny that John doesn't realise that he is just as stubborn as his father. Must be a Smith trait.

The author decided to change the subject. "I feel like having dinner right now," she said, climbing out of bed.

"Do you want me to bring the food upstairs instead?" her husband asked.

She pondered for a moment. "That sounds nice, actually - my feet always get a bit sore when trying to get downstairs."

"Do you want me to carry you, next time?" he asked, grinning.

Clara laughed. "I'm sure you'll break that delicate back of yours."

"You didn't have to be so mean," he replied, giving her a mocking pout before leaving the bedroom.

\-- 

Clara Smith had come up with a good yet daring plan. If her hubby doesn't want to speak to his own father and convince him to undergo surgery, then she would meet Jeremy Smith herself. Granted, she wasn't there to force him to do something he doesn't want to, but it wouldn't hurt to also get to know him a bit better, understand the man from her own perspective instead of just John's.

Two hours after John left for work, she immediately called a taxi and instructed the driver to take her to the hospital. She was careful to put on a pair of sunglasses and a large hat so that most of the hospital staff wouldn't recognise her easily as she didn't want to have her cover blown until she met Jeremy.

Now, the soon-to-be mother stood in front of her father-in-law's ward. Asking about where he was located had been a bit tricky, but she ended up telling the receptionist behind the desk that she was just a family member visiting.

She took a deep breath before raising her hand and knocking on the door twice, pausing a moment before entering.

"Yes?" a raspy voice said.

Clara walked past the curtains and immediately locked eyes with Jeremy, who was lying in bed. She saw the recognition in his weary eyes before they lowered to her swollen belly and then back up again.

"Hello," she greeted, fiddling with the hat she held to hide her shaking hands.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! :)

"Are… you're her," Jeremy stammered, remembering the woman standing in front of him several months ago. He cleared his throat, trying to get his voice in order before trying to reach for the cup of water next to the bed.

Clara immediately rushed to his side and handed him the drink.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She took a seat in the armchair, waiting for Jeremy to finish drinking the water. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright," he said softly, smiling kindly. "It's just that you were the last person I was expecting to see… you're John's wife, right?"

"Yes," she answered awkwardly, now unsure of how to steer the conversation. "Mr Smith," she began.

"Oh, please, call me Jeremy – I can't have my only daughter-in-law calling me 'Mr Smith'," he chuckled. His eyes then trailed down to her swollen belly. "Your first child?" he asked.

"Yeah, six months pregnant," she stated, placing a hand on her stomach.

Jeremy beamed as he shifted slightly. "I bet you and John are thrilled – oh what am I saying, of course you are – it's written all over your face," he chided. He wished he hadn't been sour all those years ago and gave his son the love and devotion he deserved.

Clara fought back a sigh. If only he knew. She cleared her throat. "The reason I came here is that I wanted to talk to you."

The old man raised both eyebrows. "About what?"

"John told me you won't be undergoing surgery," she stated.

He looked away from her as if he was ashamed of it. "Yes," he said quietly. "That's right."

"Why?"

There was a long pause before Jeremy glanced in her direction. "I…" he began. "I see no point in it – I'm dying as it is."

Clara pressed her lips together. "And refusing to do surgery will only speed things up."

She had a feeling that Jeremy wanted to resolve things with her husband, but there is little chance of him doing that if he doesn't take care of his health.

"Why are you so concerned about my health?"

"I love John so very much," she said. "He's the best man I have ever met, always kind, always putting others before himself, but he's changed a bit ever since the accidental meeting in the lobby."

Jeremy remained silent.

"I don't know you very well, and I don't know what his childhood was truly like, but I want him to resolve things with you before the baby is born," Clara continued. "It's been decades since you've seen each other and I'm sure things have changed… for the better."

Suddenly, he let out a hearty laugh, causing much confusion. "I can see why he married you."

She furrowed her brows.

"In a good way, of course," he added hastily. "You keep him grounded, don't you?" he asked smiling. "Aside from exuding grace."

Well, she likes to she keeps her husband grounded.

The old man sighed. "So am I getting a grandson or a granddaughter?" he questioned.

Clara finally relaxed and beamed. "I had an ultrasound scan not too long ago and it's a boy," she explained before pausing. "Wait, does this mean you'll agree to undergo surgery?"

Jeremy coughed several times before he reached for the glass of water again. He finished the drink and silently stared at the wall, thinking, pondering. "Perhaps…"

"You'll get to meet your grandson in a few months."

"I don't think John will allow that," he countered, smiling sadly/

Clara pursed her lips. "Maybe he will, once he gets to know you better."

"Does he know you're here?" he asked, changing the subject.

"It doesn't matter."

Jeremy nodded. "I think you should leave before he finds out."

There was not much Clara could do now. She had talked to him and that was it. In the end, it was his choice. Silently, she planted her feet on the ground and headed for the door. Just before she left, she turned around. "You will think about it, won't you, the operation?"

Jeremy Smith remained silent for some time and Clara thought she came here for nothing, so she opened the door.

"I will consider it."

Happy with her father-in-law's answer, for now, she bid him farewell and left the room.

Clara shut the door before leaning against it, watching people passing by. The meeting went surprisingly well as she had expected Jeremy to be a lot more difficult to talk to.

Silently, she began walking in the direction of the main lift when she spotted her husband stepping out.

"John," she blurted, surprised that he was on this particular floor, to begin with.

"Clara?" he said, frowning slightly. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't have an appointment with Martha today, not that he recalled and even if she did, why was she on this floor to begin with? It then suddenly clicked.

Clara saw the realisation in her John's eyes. "He might change his mind about the surgery," she stated quickly.

"You went to see him."

"Yes, because-"

"You went to see him," her husband repeated.

"Yes, I did," she admitted, hoping he wouldn't be too mad. "I-"

"I told you to stay away from him."

Clara pinched the bridge of her nose. "John, I just wanted to talk to him – he seems genuine," she said until a thought hit her. "What are you doing here – your office is not on this floor."

John hesitated for a moment, clearing his throat and pulling the collar of his shirt. "Fine," he sighed. "I'm here to speak to him."

She smiled, but the surgeon remained stoic.

"This doesn't change the fact that you went behind my back."

"I knew you wouldn't let me see him."

"And for good reason, too."

They glared at each other before John broke the eye contact as he turned around and returned to the lift.

His wife trailed behind him. "Where are you going?"

"To my office," he grumbled.

She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Please don't be mad," Clara murmured as they stepped inside the lift together. "Look, we didn't talk for long and your father was very courteous."

"He's a womanizer – it's what he does," John commented, crossing the arm before the lift was enveloped in silence.

The couple made their way to the lobby and John went to the reception to get his wife a cab. He was still mad at her, but that doesn't mean he should ignore her.

"Taxi should be here in five minutes," he grunted as his wife slowly settled down on the soft armchair.

"Thank you," she replied quietly.

There was no doubt in their minds that when John returns home later in the evening, they would have a serious talk. Clara could only hope it wouldn't lead to another argument. She was getting sick of it.

\-- 

John Smith had been extremely unhappy when he discovered that his wife went behind his back. As much as he felt sorry for his father and wants to help, he couldn't bring himself to trust the old man completely.

This led the couple to another fight.

"John, I only talked to him for less than 10 minutes – he insisted I leave in case you got angry," Clara stated as she sat in bed.

Her husband, who was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, remained silent. He glared at his own reflection.

"Look on the bright side – he's agreed to undergo surgery."

"You could have told me."

The soon-to-be mother shut her eyes. "And you would have moved heaven and earth to prevent me from meeting him – everyone knows how dramatic you can be."

John didn't want to hear anything from her any longer. He certainly wasn't dramatic. "I am not dramatic," he growled. "But since you think that way."

He grabbed his pillow and darted for the door.

"Where are you going?" Clara asked. If she wasn't heavily pregnant, she would have chased after him and slap some sense into him. He's just proven her point. Idiot.

Again, he chose to remain silent and made his way to the guest bedroom. He couldn't be bothered for now.

"Bloody idiot," Clara hissed. "Well, if your father wants to sulk, then let him," she said to her unborn child. "More space for me in bed."

At around half past midnight, John, who was sleeping soundly, was roused by someone shaking his shoulder.

"John."

He groaned, eyes still shut before rolling over.

"John."

"Yes?" he muttered tiredly at his wife.

She sat down next to him. "Look, I'm sorry I doubted you – I really am."

He cracked one eye opened. "You could have apologised in the morning," he groaned.

Clara bit her lower lip. "I need your help."

Her husband immediately sat up as concern washed over his face. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Are you in pain – is the baby-"

"We're fine," she insisted.

He leaned against the headboard. "What's going on?"

"I want cucumber ice-cream."

John blinked several times. "What?"

"I feel like eating cucumber ice-cream."

"What?"

"Can you get me some?"

"What?"

Clara pinched his arm so that he would be fully awake.

"Yes, I'm aware you want cucumber ice-cream," he sighed, rubbing his sore arm. "Where am I supposed to find that?"

She shrugged. "Tesco, maybe – I really need it right now."

Her husband massaged his temple. "Clara," he began softly. "It's midnight and besides, there is no such thing as cucumber ice-cream."

"Can you at least check?"

The soon-to-be father groaned, shutting his eyes. "How about this – there's a tub of vanilla ice-cream downstairs and I'm sure we have cucumber in the fridge – why don't I chop them into slices and add them to the ice-cream?"

Well, it was certainly a good alternative since he didn't look like he was in the mood to go out into the wild in search for cucumber ice-cream. "Fine."

John threw away the covers. "Let's get you back to bed and I'll get your ice-cream."

Clara beamed as he guided her back to the master bedroom and then disappeared downstairs. No more than ten minutes later, John returned with a bowl in one hand and a spoon in another. "One 'cucumber' ice-cream for a Mrs Smith," he said tiredly before handing it to his wife.

"Thank you – you're the best," she commented and took a spoonful of ice-cream.

"How is it?"

"Pretty good."

He stared at the desert in disgust before climbing into bed.

"Have you finally stopped sulking?" she teased.

"Funny," he grumbled before resting his head on the soft pillow.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, a pair of soft lips landed on his left cheek. John opened his eyes and stared at his wife.

"Thank you," she said, settling next to him before resting her head on his chest. "Good night."

"Good night, Clara," he murmured, finally smiling. John kissed her hair and shut his eyes.

\-- 

Jeremy Smith was currently engrossed in the newspaper he was reading, or at least that was the impression he gave. For the last twenty minutes, he had been staring at the same page, eyes blank. His mind was somewhere else.

Today was the day he would be going into surgery. His only child had visited him earlier in the morning to inform him of the procedure again and stated it wouldn't take too long.

Jeremy felt grateful and touched that his son was willing to help fix his heart after all the pain he had caused. He didn't deserve this. He should just die, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, especially not after Clara had visited him. He was going to be a grandfather and won't miss it for the world.

Suddenly, the door swung open and John stepped inside, along with a group of nurses. "It's time," he said, still dressed in the pristine lab coat. "Everything is getting prepped," he added. "I'll see you in the OR."

As John was about to leave, Jeremy said his name and he turned around.

"Thank you."

John stared at his father for a brief second before finally leaving. He's certain that the operation will go smoothly.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! :) Let's see how the operation is going ;)

"How are the vital signs?" John asked softly as he carefully worked on a blood vessel. He needed to be assured that everything was fine before removing it.

"Everything seems fine," a nurse said, staring at the monitor in full concentration.

Bill silently observed from the other end of the operation table.

Suddenly, he paused and looked up at her. "I think you know how this works," he stated through the surgical mask before handing her the small blade.

The junior doctor merely nodded before she grabbed the blade and removed the healthy blood vessel.

"Excellent," he commented.

The two then began working quickly as they didn't want to waste any more time. The operation had been running for almost three hours now.

Just as everything was going smoothly, the monitors started beeping.

John looked up. "His heart rate is dropping."

His eyes returned to the exposed heart and he saw what was causing the problem.

"He's bleeding," he stated calmly. "Where is it coming from?" he growled, annoyed that he couldn't find the source.

"Graft," Bill stated, and they quickly began fixing the problem.

Once the bleeding stopped, John looked up at the monitor and saw that the vital signs were slowly going back to normal. "Jesus Christ," he sighed. "Let's just patch him up quickly – he needs a blood transfusion."

Eventually, the heart-lung was switched off and everyone waited in anticipation that the first sign of life would appear on the screen. The room was silent and the only thing which could be heard was the sound of their own breathing. They waited.

One. Nothing.

Two. Nothing.

Three.

A beep was heard and the life signs on screen were promising.

After what felt like an eternity, the surgery was finally over, and Jeremy was wheeled out of the operation room, to the intensive care unit.

John felt relieved that it was a success despite the complication that the team faced and for some strange reason, he felt excited at the idea of telling his wife that his father will be alright.

When he returned to the office, he sent her a text message, updating her before a familiar face dropped into his office.

"Heard what happened during the surgery," Wilf commented as he took a seat. "I was only observing during the first half-hour before I had to leave."

John rubbed his eyes. "We managed to pull through – he suffered internal bleeding."

"I'm glad it worked out in your favour, not that I ever doubted you, to begin with," Wilf chided.

"Let's just hope he's fine when he wakes up," John said quietly. He felt exhausted after being in the operation room for more than four hours.

As soon as he returned home, he wanted to do nothing more than to pass out on the sofa since he didn't feel like taking the stairs.

"Hey," Clara greeted him at the door before getting on her toes and kissing him. "I've never seen you so drained."

"Hello," he said and then bent down to kiss her belly. "Hello, to you, too."

"You ok?"

"Hmm," was all he managed to say as his wife dragged him to the living room. "I just want to sleep for two days straight," he groaned, collapsing on the sofa.

"You can get as much rest as you can because once the baby's here, neither of us will get any sleep," she said light-heartedly.

John slumped against the sofa and closed his eyes, wrapping an arm around his wife. "I don't care – I can deal with that later."

"How long is he going to be in ICU?"

"A few days – three days at most, but he's expected to regain consciousness tomorrow," he explained. "There was a slight complication during the surgery, though."

Clara traced circles all over his chest. "What happened."

"He started bleeding – I couldn't figure out where it was coming out until Bill pointed it out."

At the mention of one of the junior doctors he's currently supervising, she smiled. "And you said you didn't want to, what was the term – oh, right – 'babysit'."

The surgeon opened his eyes. "Not an hour after I got home and you're teasing me."

His wife laughed before she pecked him on the lips. "Are you going to check up on him tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Make sure nothing's wrong."

The author stared at her husband, wondering if he wanted to tell her more.

"What?" John giggled.

"Nothing, just admiring my hubby."

He had been wanting to ask her a very specific question since the operation was over since he saw his father being escorted out of the operation room. A question that would surely please his wife, yet at the same time, makes him feel a bit uneasy.

"If all goes well tomorrow," he began. "Would you like to meet him – after he's been transferred out of ICU, of course – I don't want you going in there since you're pregnant."

Clara stared at him in shock. She thought he would be even more protective after her meeting with Jeremy. She couldn't help but feel proud of her husband. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

He frowned, wondering why she was still staring at him. "Why are you still looking at me like that?"

"Nothing," she said immediately before resting her head back on his chest. Another thought then occurred to her. "Where does your dad live?"

"His records say North London – not that far from where we live."

"Does he have somebody who can take care of him – I mean, he's just had heart surgery and you can't expect him to be left alone."

John shrugged. "I don't know – I'll find out when he wakes up," he answered before remembering something. "He did list me down as his next of kin, so I'm guessing no."

"You can't just leave him."

"I never said that," he grunted. "But I am not letting him stay here if that's where your head's at."

Clara lifted her head. "Why not – we have a guest bedroom and-"

"No," he said sternly, eyes darkening. The anger then slowly subsided. "How about this, why don't I check up on him every few days before and after work?"

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

It was certainly a better solution than inviting his father to stay with his family. "Yes," he replied. "I think it's only a 15-minute drive from here."

Her husband's suggestion was better than nothing, so she nodded. "Alright."

"Let's just put this aside for now, because I much prefer talking about you or our son," he murmured, grinning. "Maybe we should start considering his middle name because I came up with one."

Clara nodded in agreement.

"David," both said in unison, surprising each other.

It shouldn't really come as a surprise to both that the baby's middle name would be her father's name.

"I didn't think it would be that quick – I mean, this must be a world record," she joked as they laughed together.

"You hear that?" John said as he bent down, talking to his wife's swollen belly. "Your middle name's going to be 'David'."

He placed a quick kiss before the phone in his pocket began ringing.

"It's mum," he stated, immediately answering the call.

John's mother had been informed that her ex-husband would be undergoing surgery today and she was curious to know how it went, so the call lasted for about fifteen minutes, after which Claire spoke to her daughter-in-law briefly before hanging up.

"What did she sound like when you talked to her because I can't tell when we spoke on the phone," Clara inquired.

"Somewhere between 'I'm just calling out of courtesy' and 'I'm calling because we used to spend almost twenty years together'," her husband explained.

"Thought it was more of the latter," she commented.

John put away his phone and decided to change the subject. "So what have you been up to all day – any spoilers you can give me since you're almost done with the book."

"Nice try, John Smith – you're not getting it that easily," she giggled before he captured her lips.

\-- 

When Jeremy Smith regained consciousness, the first thought that came to mind was that he felt uncomfortable. His chest, especially. He then realised that he had difficulty talking so he shot his blue eyes open. It took him a while to adjust to the light and when he did, he remembered that he was in a hospital.

The old man then became aware that there was a tube in his mouth. So that was what prevented him from speaking.

He scanned the room slowly before reaching for the remote on his lap and called for the nurse.

No more than two minutes later, one walked in and rushed to his side as he pointed at the tube.

"You'll be needing that for a while," the nurse said gently as she checked the monitor. "All seems fine here – I'll get Dr Smith."

Jeremy nodded weakly. He would feel much better if he saw someone familiar, so he waited patiently for his son to arrive and it felt like an eternity had passed when he saw John striding in.

"Dad," he acknowledged. "I know you must feel extremely uncomfortable right now, but you're just going to have to live with it until you're out of ICU."

Jeremy knitted his brows, prompting his son to continue talking.

"You'll only be here for two days – three at most."

John continued to explain to a few things to his father before he finally took his leave, assuring him that he would be back to check up on his regularly. He chose to leave out the details of Clara's planned visit. It was better to surprise him to lift his spirits a bit.

Surely enough, a few days passed, and Jeremy Smith was transferred to a normal ward and he didn't have an annoying tube in his mouth, which made up for the irritation in his chest.

He had just finished breakfast when John entered the room. He had expected it to be another regular meeting but what surprised him was that Clara appeared after a second.

Jeremy was left speechless for a moment as he didn't expect his daughter-in-law to be in the same room with him again.

"Hello," Clara greeted as her husband helped her settle on the armchair. "How are you – John tells me you've been making good progress."

He cleared his throat, smiling. "Yes," Jeremy replied with a raspy voice. "My chest still feels strange, but aside from that, I do feel better," he explained before glancing at his son. "All thanks to John."

John nodded once before he pulled up another chair and sat next to his wife.

"I… I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the both of you," Jeremy stated. "Thank you."

John remained quiet while Clara did all the talking. "If anybody deserves a thank you, it's John – he's been making sure you're on the road to recovery and did all the hard work."

"Words can't express how grateful I am… but it's still the three of you who saved my life."

She glanced at her husband, grasping his hand. "As I said, most of the credit goes to John," she replied, beaming. "You said he'll be here for a week, right?"

"Yes," John answered. "At least a week."

Clara then turned back to her father-in-law. "Where will you go after being discharged?"

Jeremy hadn't thought about it since he was admitted. How could he think of anything else when his own heart was failing him? "I'll stay at home."

"Go on, tell him," he heard her whisper.

"Dad, since you live alone, I thought that maybe I could come and visit you every few days to make sure you're taking care of yourself."

Jeremy was touched by his son's words that he felt tear prickling his eyes. "You don't have to do that – I don't want to trouble you, John."

"I insist," John added a bit too sternly. He flinched a bit when his wife pinched his arm discreetly. "Clara and I live nearby so it won't be an issue."

Jeremy hesitated. "If it's no trouble, then yes, that would be lovely… thank you, John," he said, smiling. He then diverted his attention to Clara. "How are you – is my future grandson giving you trouble?" he said lightly, chuckling.

While the two continued to chat, Jeremy could have sworn he saw his son smiling for a fraction of a second. It may just be a small gesture, but it was a great start.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your amazing support! :) How are things going for the soon-to-be parents, I wonder...

_Approximately three months later_

Clara Smith just couldn't wait to finally give birth to her son. She only has to wait for another 12 days now. Just twelve more days and she would no longer feel like a bloated fish, not that she hated being pregnant or anything like that, but she would be glad to have her baby boy in her arms.

She stared at the laptop sitting in front of her. She had finished writing her book just a few days ago and was now going through chapter by chapter to make sure what she wrote was at least coherent.

It was a cold February morning and there a steaming cup of hot chocolate next to the laptop to keep company. As her eyes scanned the text displayed on the monitor, she heard the front door unlock.

"I'll just take your luggage upstairs – Clara is probably in her office," John said as he went upstairs, carrying two suitcases in both hands.

"Oh, there you are!" Claire exclaimed, beaming as she signalled her daughter-in-law to remain seated. "You don't have to get up," she stated, hugging her. "You look like you're ready to pop!"

Clara laughed. "That's what Donna and Amy said just a few days ago – they said they're looking forward to meeting the baby."

"Everyone is."

"How was the train journey?"

"Slightly crowded," Claire replied. "I was glad to finally get off the train."

John had thought it would be best that Clara wasn't left alone while he was at work. She was due to give birth in a little over a week and he just wanted to be sure that there was somebody around to keep her company in case of an emergency, which was why he had asked his mother to come to London and stay with them for a few weeks.

"It's always crowded when nearing the end of the week," Clara commented. "I'm surprised you didn't bring Gary along."

"Oh, he'll be fine without me for three weeks," her mother-in-law said as she sat down in an armchair. "He loves playing with the MacTavish children, so he'll be fine."

Just then, John walked into the living room, still wearing the black coat that keeps him warm.

"Where are you going?" Clara asked, shutting her laptop.

"Dad's remember?" he answered. "It's almost five."

For the past three months, John had regularly been visiting his father, making sure that he was in good health and taking care of himself. It would usually just be him to see Jeremy as he preferred to keep it that way for the time being. While their relationship wasn't smooth, it wasn't as shaky as it used to be. He thought that his father deserves a second chance, now that things were different.

"Tell him the baby and I said hi," Clara requested as John bent down to peck her on the lips. "And please get me a packet of crisps."

Claire watched the two lovebirds silently, a smile plastered on her face. It looks like her son wasn't as bothered about his relationship with his father as before.

"Do you need anything, mum?" the surgeon asked.

She shook her head. "No, but I will call you if I change my mind."

"Me, too," Clara added as the two women laughed.

"I'm back to becoming a full-time butler, I see," John grumbled mockingly. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

\-- 

Jeremy Smith had woken up in the morning feeling unwell. It started with a sore throat before it escalated into a slight fever, but nothing too alarming. He had spent half of the day in bed, eating soup and resting, but he still felt unwell. There were a few things he needed to ask his son before he even dared to take a paracetamol to at least manage a sore throat.

The old man slowly made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. That was the only beverage he was allowed to drink. Tap water. No coffee or tea. Oh, the things he took for granted. He sometimes felt the urge to get a sip of alcohol, but then told himself he shouldn't.

Jeremy finally reached the kitchen when he heard the front door unlock.

"John, is that you?"

"Yes," John answered with a neutral tone, taking off the blue scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Oh, good, I need to tell you something," Jeremy said softly, leaning against the counter.

His son strode into the kitchen, carrying a bag of groceries. "What is it – I got you some fresh fruits and vegetables," he said, opening the fridge.

"Thank you," Jeremy replied. "I think I have a fever… I took the usual medication, but am I allowed to take paracetamol?"

"No, you should take aspirin – I included that in your prescription since it also prevents you from getting another heart attack," John explained before finishing stocking up the fridge.

His father nodded. "Ok, I'll just continue taking the medication you gave me."

"Anything else?" he asked, looking ready to leave. It still felt a bit strange to him that his father chose to retire to London. Besides, he only came here to make sure the old man is still alive and well as he had promised his wife. "Oh, that reminds me, Clara and your future grandson said hi."

Jeremy finally smiled. "Please send them my love," he murmured before turning around and opening a cupboard. "You mentioned that Clara is having chocolate cravings, so I went to the shop around the corner and got this."

He placed a round blue box of chocolates on the counter.

"You're more than welcome to share it with her," he said lightly, though his son never smiled back.

"Thank you, dad," John said, grabbing the box. "I'll be sure to give this to her."

He wrapped the warm scarf around his neck again, tucking the box of chocolates under his arm and just before leaving, John turned back to his father.

"Just remember to take your medication, drink plenty of water and get lots of rest if you want the fever to go away," he advised softly.

"There's something else I would like to say before you leave."

The elderly man cleared his throat, suddenly at lost for words. All he wanted to do was thank his son for giving him a second chance and that he is proud of John for turning into a better man than he ever was.

"Funnily enough, I seem to have forgotten what it was," he said, forcing a smile. He just had trouble finding the right words.

John shrugged as he unlocked the door. "I'll see you on Monday, dad."

\-- 

_Two Days Later_

Clara Smith was roused by a loud ringing sound coming from the other side of the bed. She shifted a bit before scooting closer to her husband who was still sleeping. "John," she mumbled. "John, your alarm."

John grunted before he cracked one eye open and reached for the ringing phone and switched off the alarm. "Good morning," he murmured, planting a quick kiss on her lips before leaning down to kiss her belly.

"Morning, soon-to-be father," his wife replied as she smiled, eyes still shut.

He grinned, taking in the sight of her. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to be married to the beautiful and amazing woman lying next to him, soon to give birth.

"Stop staring at me like that," Clara giggled as he kissed her once more.

"I can't help it," John murmured, stroking her stomach.

"You have to or else you'll be late for work."

He laughed and kissed his wife one more time. "It will be worth it."

"I'm beginning to think you did something wrong," she joked.

"Not kissing you for the third time?"

Clara snorted. "See, this is why everyone is sick of us."

Her husband kissed her for the third time before he threw away the covers and climbed out of bed. She remained in her spot, propping her head with her elbow.

"Other people are just jealous," he stated, giving her a wolfish grin.

She rolled her eyes as he stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Over an hour later, John left for work while Clara and her mother-in-law spent time together in the living room, eating snacks.

"Have you and John thought of a name for the baby?"

"Sort of," Clara replied hesitantly. "I mean, we have narrowed it down to two, but it still doesn't feel right, at least not yet."

Her mother-in-law arched a brow. "And what would they be?"

"Peter, definitely," she explained. "There's also Dougan which John suggested."

"Why not both – one can be the middle name."

"We agreed that the baby's name is going to be David," Clara said.

Claire took another bite of the biscuit she held, smiling. "Right, of course."

"How did you end up choosing a name for John?"

The elderly woman beamed. "Oh, that's a bit of a long story, but I'll mention how he got his middle name first," she explained. "I was searching for basil at a sundry shop and when I found it, I felt him kick for the first time – simple as that… it was supposed to be his first name."

At the mention of this, Clara grew curious as there was a hint of sadness in the elderly woman's voice. "What changed your mind?"

"I had a younger brother – John," Claire murmured. "He was always there for me, looking after me and making sure I was alright… he was just starting uni when I was pregnant with John."

She smiled sadly at the memory of her brother, remembering him as the kind-hearted man he was. If only he could see his nephew now.

"He had told me he was very eager to become an uncle, willing to drive me to the hospital and look after me since Jeremy was away," Claire continued, eyes watery. "He… he was murdered the night before I gave birth – he was trying to help someone who was being robbed and ended up getting stabbed himself."

Clara placed a comforting hand on her mother-in-law's arm, at lost for words. It was best she didn't say anything.

"I had to name John after his uncle – I'm guessing he chose Dougan because it's his uncle's middle name."

Claire wiped the single tear that rolled down her cheek before sheepishly laughing. "I'm sorry for being so emotional."

"Don't apologise, mum," Clara replied. "I'll go get you a tissue."

"Oh, Clara, please don't trouble yourself – I'll get it."

The author stood up, anyway as she felt the need to stretch her legs a bit. "Don't worry about it," she stated before she felt a jolt of pain shooting through her body, causing her to hiss.

"Clara," her mother-in-law said in concern, holding her still as she nearly lost her balance.

The pregnant woman started to breathe heavily as she felt liquid flowing down her legs. "No, no, no."

"Your water broke."

\-- 

Jeremy Smith had started his day feeling dizzy. His fever hadn't gotten worse since it began a few days before, but his health hadn't improved either.

As he slowly made his way to the tiny kitchen, he nearly tripped, using the wall as support. Breathing suddenly became difficult and he fell to his knees, clutching his chest.

With a shaky hand, he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his pyjama bottoms and called John.

He gasped, the pain unbearable when finally, he heard his son's voice.

"Yes, dad?"

Jeremy came to the horrifying realisation that he could not speak.

"John," was all he could manage weakly.

"Dad?" John yelled through the phone. "Dad, can you hear me?"

The next thing he knew, John hung up. Jeremy lay on the floor, fighting for his life and praying that help would arrive soon.


	18. Chapter 18

"Your water broke," Claire said in shock as her daughter-in-law held on to her for support.

"It can't be," Clara groaned, stroking her to stomach in hopes of easing the pain.

Claire set her back down on the sofa before looking around the living room for a phone. "I'll call an ambulance."

The elderly woman raced upstairs to the guest bedroom and retrieved her phone. As she dialled the emergency number, she came to the horrifying realisation that there was so signal. Rushing back downstairs, she said, "I don't have a signal on my phone," before stepping outside.

Clara on the other hand, was in too much pain to think clearly. She didn't care about anything else aside from her son who was eager to wait another week.

Claire dialled the emergency number again, and this time, her call wasn't answered immediately.

"Mum!"

She turned around at the sound of Clara crying out in pain. "Please, please," she whispered, hoping somebody on the other end of the line would answer.

Just then, she caught sight of a silver car driving past and immediately raced to the street and signalled the car to stop.

A young man in his early twenties stepped out, face contorted in concern. "Is everything-"

"You have to help me," she begged. "My daughter is about to give birth – I need to call an ambulance, but my phone isn't working," she explained, wishing she knew how to use a smartphone properly.

The man didn't hesitate for a moment as both heard another cry of pain. "I'll drive you instead – it's quicker than waiting for an ambulance."

"Clara," Claire called out as she rushed to her side, followed by the stranger. "This young man is going to take us to the hospital," she said gently, stroking her hair. "Can you stand?"

She nodded, eyes watery as both helped her up and guided her to the vehicle outside. "Wait," Clara said. "I need the maternity bag."

"Where is it?"

"Upstairs in the nursery – next to the cot."

Claire left her with the young man while she raced back into the house to retrieve the large bag. By the time she returned outside, her daughter-in-law was just about to enter the vehicle.

"Is there a blanket in here?" she asked, unzipping the bag.

"Yeah," Clara answered before glancing at the stranger. "I'm sorry if I ruin your car," she joked as her mother-in-law spread the blanket in the back seat.

The young man chuckled. "I actually drove my sister to the hospital when she was about to give birth," he explained before getting back into the car once the two occupants were inside. "Is there a specific hospital you would like to go to or-"

"My husband's," the soon-to-be mother answered as she gripped Claire's hand. "St William's."

She could only hope that John wasn't caught up in an emergency operation as she didn't want him to miss her giving birth. "I never caught your name," she commented, thinking that small talk would at least mellow down the pain a bit.

"Malcolm," the young man answered.

\-- 

John had called an ambulance as soon as he hung up, racing to the carpark. He notified them of his father's condition and home address, as well as mentioning that there was a spare key in a flower pot before starting the engine of his vehicle.

He sped off in a hurry, not thinking about anything else aside from his father's deteriorating health.

John was the first to reach his father house and as soon as the car came to a halt, he dashed out of the vehicle and into the house.

His father was slumped against the wall in the hallway, eyes closed.

"Dad," he said, shaking his shoulder before checking for a pulse. It was faint. The surgeon could hear the ambulance siren blazing in the background, but he didn't want to move until a medical technician appeared next to him.

"How long has he been like this?"

His father couldn't die today, not when Clara's due date is just around the corner. No.

John was speechless for a moment before he regained his voice. "I'm not sure – he phoned me about fifteen minutes ago, so I'm guessing that long."

He let the ambulance crew assist his father and stood in the corner, not wanting to move until they put him on a stretcher. Without much thought, he entered the ambulance and sat inside, next to Jeremy.

He extended his hand and squeezed Jeremy's arm.

The ambulance sped through the streets of London, the siren allowing it to move through traffic quicker. Eventually, they arrived at the hospital.

What puzzled him, however, was that the doors didn't open immediately.

"There's another vehicle in front of me," the driver explained before the doors finally swung open.

John was the first to step out, allowing the staff to get to his father.

"Did you manage to call John?" a familiar voice asked worriedly.

He walked around the ambulance and made eye contact with his wife as his father was wheeled away.

"John?" she said, surprised to see him before her eyes followed Jeremy.

Claire glanced at her son, the question of why he was ignoring her calls finally answered.

John didn't hesitate to rush to his wife's side after she called him, or at least that was the impression he was giving. His eyes told a different story. They were confused, hesitant whether he should help his father or not. That would mean leaving Clara and she would possibly give birth while he was absent.

"Go," Clara managed. "Save him."

"But," he began as he ushered her inside the building. "You're…"

She leaned against him and breathed in heavily, closing her eyes briefly. "Go, he needs you."

"What about you – I don't want to miss anything."

She smiled through the pain as the coupled entered the emergency reception. "Be a doctor… promise me."

"Do as she says," Claire added.

He nodded, letting her go as Dr Jones appeared, followed by several nurses. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Oh, thank God you're here, Martha," Clara groaned. "I don't think I can handle this."

"John's mum called me - I've been waiting here for you," she explained, helping Clara lie down. "We're going to the maternity ward, ok, and then assess everything properly from there," the obstetrician explained before glancing at Claire. "Do you remember when exactly this happened?"

Claire and Martha got into a discussion, but Clara wasn't paying attention.

The soon-to-be mother could only feel her entire aching and when she tried to speak, she realised she was at lost for words. The thought of giving birth to her child suddenly terrified her as she was going through the experience for the first time, unsure of what lay ahead.

\-- 

"How is he?" John Smith asked as he entered one of the emergency rooms.

Wilf, who was checking up on Jeremy, said, "Not good, he's responding so far, but his heart rate is dropping fast."

"Did you give him antiplatelet?" he asked, staring at his father. The surgeon felt useless that he wasn't doing anything.

"Yes."

"John," Jeremy managed, voice rough. He reached out a hand and his son immediately grasped it. "Clara, be with her."

The last thing he wanted his son to do was to make the same mistake he did all those years ago. Jeremy didn't want him to miss witness the birth of his grandson.

John was shocked by his father's words. "I… I can't… Clara told me to stay with you."

"Go to her," his father advised, smiling.

He then flatlined.

"Dad!" John screamed. "Get me the defi-"

Wilf was already shouting orders in the room. "John, I think I should handle it from here."

"I can't leave him – I promised Clara-"

"I am in charge here - you're being emotional and we can't afford that - go to your wife," Wilf said sternly. It sounded more like an order. His colleague was acting on his emotions and he didn't want that to cause further difficulties. The man's head was clearly somewhere else.

Nevertheless, Wilf handed John the paddles. "Do this and then leave."

He quickly activated the paddles and looked up the monitor. Nothing. Still a flat line.

He tried again.

Every person in the room held their breath, waiting, but nothing happened.

"Don't you dare," John growled, trying to resuscitate his father for the third time. He didn't want the time he spent visiting and taking care of his father to be in vain. If he dies now, it was all for nothing.

A second passed, and then another and another.

John lowered his hands and placed the paddles aside, eyes red. Wilf placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Bloody bastard."

A beep was heard.

John couldn't believe it until he saw the life signs on the monitor.

"Go, your wife needs you," Wilf advised.

He stared at his father. The old man is alive after he resuscitated him. He had fulfilled his promise.

\-- 

Clara wasn't able to hold back from screaming in pain. She had gone into labour just not too long ago and was now trying her best to push the baby out. Sweat decorated her flushed face as she mustered all the energy she had left.

She didn't regret her decision of telling John to save his father, but she wished her husband was by her side right now.

"Yes, just keep pushing," Martha encouraged. "You're doing great"

"John!" Clara cried as she desperately wanted him to comfort her.

Outside the room, Claire was seated in one of the waiting chairs, silently praying that her daughter-in-law's suffering would end soon.

Her eyes caught the shadow of a figure walking towards her.

"Malcolm," she said, surprised by his sudden appearance before she saw the large duffle bag he was carrying.

"You left this in my car," he commented sheepishly, handing over the maternity bag. He was relieved to have found Claire after somehow getting lost in the hospital for ten minutes.

Claire beamed. "Oh, bless you."

Their conversation was interrupted when a cry of pain was heard from the other side of the door.

"So how long has Clara been in labour?" he asked, staring at the door with wide eyes.

"More or less, forty-five minutes," she answered. "I just hope it's a quick one – sit down."

Malcolm pondered his options for a moment. He was just on his way home from university since the first-semester exam had ended and he had the week off. The young man didn't expect to drive a pregnant woman and her mother to the hospital when he woke up in the morning.

"Come on, you must be tired, driving all the way from Bristol," the elderly woman beckoned. "I'm sure the father will be here soon to thank you for helping his wife."

He laughed, sitting down next to her. "I just did it because it's the right thing to do."

As the two continued chatting, they heard heavy footstep approaching the hallway.

John Smith ran into the maternity floor, arms flailing everywhere. He had put on a more appropriate attire to enter the room.

"How is she – has she given birth?" he asked his mother frantically. "Did she-"

"John," Claire said gently, yet sternly. "Clara is inside and no, she's still in labour – yes, she's fine and yes, she needs you – she kept screaming your name."

The soon-to-be father stared at the double doors, suddenly feeling nervous and his body began shaking. It was happening. He's going to be a father.

"But before you go in," his mother stated, glancing at Malcolm. "This is Malcolm – he drove us to the hospital."

"Thank you so much," John said, shaking hands. "Thank you."

"It's not a big deal," Malcolm answered, smiling. "Always happy to help other people."

"John! John!"

Without a moment's hesitation, he pushed the door open and ran inside to his beloved wife.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! We have reached the penultimate chapter and I hope you'll love it! :D

John Smith never felt so relieved when he saw his wife, despite her current condition. That was the only person he noticed in the room. Everyone else disappeared as he rushed to Clara's side and held her hand.

"I'm here," he whispered to her ear. "I'm not going anywhere."

He wished he could do something to ease her pain as she looks at him with nothing but agony in her eyes. "You're here," she whispered, believing she was hallucinating for a moment.

"Yes," he answered, kissing the back of her hand.

"Glad to see that the father could make it," Martha commented.

"I can't afford to miss this."

"What about-"

"He's fine."

Clara screamed in agony once more as she pushed once again. She was so glad her husband was by her side, giving her moral support.

"You're doing great, darling," he said, kissing her sweaty forehead and squeezing her hand.

"This is really painful," she stated, losing her patience.

John tried his best to not cringe in pain as his wife suddenly gripped his hand a bit too tightly. "I know," he said and then paused, realising the mistake he made.

"You know?!" she suddenly snapped. "You don't even know what I'm going through right now!"

He remained silent, accepting her anger. He really shouldn't have said anything in the first place.

"There's a smaller version of you in me that's ripping me apart from the inside!"

Martha, who was monitoring her patient, tried her best to stifle her laughter, so she coughed.

Eventually, another hour passed, and Clara was still nowhere near to giving birth just yet.

"Yeah, it's not big enough yet," the obstetrician confirmed. "You'll be here for a while."

"How long?" Clara asked, wishing she could get it over with already.

"When you open up a bit more."

The soon-to-be mother leaned back against the hospital bed, groaning.

John felt sorry for her and a part of him wanted to speak up, but the other half was terrified. She was still giving him the death grip.

"This is your fault," his wife spat, trying to suppress the pain. "You got me pregnant."

Because they agreed to have children, but he knew better than to point it out if he didn't want her to detach something from him.

"Would you like anything to drink, John?" his colleague asked.

"Some water would be nice, thank you," answered quietly, convinced that his left hand would no longer function properly. His wife hadn't let go of his hand since he arrived.

Two more agonising hours passed, and Clara had several more contractions. This time, Dr Jones was sure her friend was ready to push the baby out.

"Yep, just a bit more and I can see the head, Clara," Martha encouraged.

"John," Clara said weakly, breathing heavily. "I don't think I can do this."

He shook his head. "Yes, you can – you're one of the strongest women I've ever known," he whispered. "You're so close."

She just wanted everything to stop. She just wanted the pain to go away.

"Just one more push, Clara," Martha instructed.

She did as she was told and a second later, the room filled with the sound of a newborn baby crying.

"It's a boy!" Dr Jones announced, handing the baby to a nurse. "Even though everyone knew that already – let's see now, the date is 12th February and time is 14:12 PM."

She glanced at John before nodding at him and retrieving a pair of scissors. "Would you like to do the honours?"

John kissed his wife and stood up, taking the scissors from Martha before cutting the umbilical cord.

Clara was beyond exhausted to speak or realise what was happening. She just wanted her son in her arms. Luckily, her husband returned to her side and kissed her forehead.

"They're just making sure he's healthy," he assured, kissing her again. "You were amazing… you're amazing."

She nodded tiredly and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling as if all her energy had been drained. The mother didn't know how much time had passed when a nurse handed her the baby.

"I'm happy to announce that my little nephew is perfectly healthy," Martha said.

"Hello," Clara whispered, smiling at the newborn baby as he lied down on top of her.

John had a grin on his face as he stared at his son. Their son. Their little boy.

\-- 

"He's absolutely gorgeous," Claire commented as she stared at the baby in her arms. She was seated next to the hospital bed where the mother was resting. "Oh, I took the liberty of calling your family, dear, they'll be here first thing tomorrow."

Clara smiled tiredly, her eyelids getting heavier by the second. "Where's John?"

"At the canteen – I think he mentioned something about thanking Malcolm – poor boy hasn't eaten since he drove us here."

The new mother nodded in acknowledgement. She wanted to tell her husband that she finally found a suitable name for their baby and she was sure he was thinking of the same thing, too.

Meanwhile, John and Malcolm were in the cafeteria, finishing up their well-deserved meals.

"So what do you read at university?"

The young man beamed. "Political Science," he said proudly. "I'm in my final year."

The surgeon arched a brow. "Are you interested in becoming a politician or something?"

He shrugged. "I only chose it because I thought it sounds interesting – who knows, maybe I'll end up doing something else."

"Well, whatever it is you choose to do, I hope you'll succeed," John said sincerely.

Both men stood up and discarded their trays.

John had insisted he buy the young man lunch as a way of thanking him from driving his wife to the hospital. He had also learned from his mother that the young man kept her company while Clara was in labour the whole time. It was the least he could do.

"If you ever need any help, just let me know."

Malcolm could only nod as they made their way to the lobby. "That reminds me, congratulations on getting your first child."

"Thank you," he replied, grinning.

"I hope you're ready for the countless sleepless nights – my niece was merciless."

John laughed. "I might have to steal a TARDIS just to get a few more hours of sleep."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "You're a fan of the book?"

The surgeon merely smiled.

"It was nice knowing you and your family, John," the young man said, shaking hands.

"You, too, Malcolm."

After sending Malcolm off at the lobby, John went to the lift and returned to the maternity ward. When he stepped inside, he was surprised to see Rory and his family.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the father," Amy teased as she held the baby in her arms.

Melody Pond ran to her Uncle John. "Uncle John, Uncle John, baby!" she said, pointing at his son.

"Yep," he answered, ruffling her hair. "That's my son."

"What his name?"

John and Clara exchanged looks from across the room.

"We'll tell you that soon, Melody," he answered, walking to Clara. "When did you get here?"

"After Rory phoned me that Clara gave birth," Amy replied, handing the baby back to his mother.

"The whole hospital is buzzing about the baby, you know," Rory commented.

After an hour, the William-Pond family left to allow Clara to rest. The only people remaining in the room were John and his mother.

"How's your father?" Clara suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"I haven't seen him since I got here," her husband confessed. "But he… I had to resuscitate him."

She nodded before looking down at their son. "I think I found a suitable name for this guy here."

John beamed. "Me, too."

Claire grinned. "Can I take a guess?"

Husband and wife exchanged looks before one of them nodded.

"Malcolm."

"Yeah," her son confirmed. "But there's just one more thing I'd like to add," he continued, glancing at Clara. "Can we add one more name?"

His mother and wife frowned in confusion.

"Jeremy," he stated softly, caressing the baby's head. "Malcolm Jeremy David Smith."

Clara chuckled, trying to suppress her emotions as she handed Malcolm to John. "Well, it's only right you introduce him to his grandad or at least inform him."

"Yes," he breathed, never looking away from his son. "So, um… do you want me to go now or…"

Again, his wife laughed. "Well, obviously not now, because I'm enjoying your company."

Just a few hours ago, she was screaming at him for making her pregnant and crushing his left hand.

The family continued chatting for another hour.

"Well, I've got nothing to do at the moment, so I think I'm going to check up on him," John announced, handing Malcolm back to Clara after kissing his head.

"I'll be waiting here with mum."

Claire cleared her throat. "Actually, I think I'll go with John."

Her son paused for a second before nodded. "Alright," he said and kissed Clara. "We'll be back soon."

Jeremy Smith lay on the hospital bed, eyes void of any emotion. He stared blankly at the white ceiling, wondering of his fate. He had a close encounter with death and on the day his grandson would enter this world too.

He wondered if Clara had given birth already, imagining how happy she and John are right now.

The elderly man shifted in bed, trying to get into a more comfortable position.

If he hadn't phoned his son, he was sure he would have met his maker by now and missed the opportunity to meet his grandson.

Jeremy was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the door unlock, thinking it was Dr Mott again. He was surprised to see his son.

"Dad," John greeted, walking inside.

He was even more surprised to see his ex-wife trailing behind.

Of course she would be at the hospital too.

"How's Clara?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

John had a small smile playing on his lips. "Tired, as you might imagine, but she and the baby are fine – we've actually named him."

"Oh?"

"Malcolm Jeremy David Smith."

Jeremy felt touched that his grandson was named after him and so he started sobbing. "I'm sorry," he murmured, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't have any pictures of him right now, but you'll get to meet him tomorrow if everything's fine," John explained before glancing at his mother who had remained silent since they entered the ward. "I think I'll give you both some privacy."

Claire mouthed thanks at her son as he left the room.

The door shut.

"Jeremy."

"Claire."

An awkward silence filled the room as Claire sat down in the empty chair.

"I just wanted to see how you're holding up," she explained, avoiding eye contact.

"I'll live to see another day," he answered quietly. He then cleared his throat. "I've never apologised for what I did to you… I'm not asking you to forgive me, but I am sorry, Claire, for hurting you."

"I didn't come here to make you do that," she stated. "But thank you, it means a lot to me and for the sake of it, I've forgiven you for a while now."

Jeremy mustered up the courage to speak again. "Can we still be friends?" he asked. "For Malcolm's sake?"

Claire finally smiled. "I think that could work."

\-- 

After John sent his mother home and retrieved his car from his father's house, he returned to the hospital.

The new father stepped into his wife's ward and was surprised to see her with their son. A nurse had dropped by shortly before he left to take Malcolm back to the nursery, so she could rest.

"I felt a bit lonely and missed him, so I asked one of the nurses to bring him to me," Clara explained as her husband sunk down at the edge of the mattress.

John grinned. "It's understandable since he's adorable," he murmured, caressing their son's soft cheek. "You should be resting, though."

"I am," she replied, beaming.

All those fears he had months ago were gone, replaced by a warm feeling in his chest, something he couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was love. Maybe both.

John couldn't believe how ridiculous he had reacted to the news because he couldn't imagine not loving Malcolm. "Thank you," he whispered to his wife.

"For what?"

"For giving me the chance to become a father and proving me wrong," he answered, kissing her.

Clara kissed him back and Malcolm started crying. He stopped when they pulled away. "Oh God, I think he's sick of us already."

John laughed before he bent down and kissed Malcolm's head. "That's just something you're going to have to get used to, kiddo."

"You're not going home, right?" his wife asked in concern. She didn't want to spend the night alone.

"Of course not," the new father said. "I'll just sleep on the sofa."

"Can you request a bigger bed?" she joked, moving over to make some space for him. "Come on, join in."

"Are you sure you're comfortable?"

"Absolutely – just lie down here for a while."

John took off his shoes and carefully lied down on the mattress, feeling content. He was sure Clara felt the same way, too as he locked eyes with her.


	20. Chapter 20

**Epilogue**

Malcolm Jeremy David Smith continued to wail loudly despite his mother's efforts to calm him down. It all started when his father, who was playing with him, left the house. Since then, the 6-month-old baby had been in a foul mood as he was robbed of his playtime with his father.

"Malcolm," Clara murmured, walking around the living room in hopes he would eventually stop crying. She had tried everything, feeding him, changing his diaper, setting him down, playing a video on YouTube, but nothing worked. "Daddy will be back soon – he's just picking up grandad."

At the mention of his grandfather, he slowly stopped crying, staring at his mother with wide brown eyes.

Things had changed a lot since the past six months and for the better, too. She gave birth to this sweet little child in her arms, her husband learned to forgive his father and she couldn't be happier.

"That's right, grandad will be here soon."

Malcolm began cooing, causing Clara to laugh.

"Speaking about your grandad, why don't you surprise him by saying your first word," she encouraged. "Say 'mummy'."

Again, the baby cooed, smiling.

"What about 'daddy'?"

The same reaction as before.

Clara didn't mind if Malcolm ends up saying 'mama' or 'dada', but she and John had recently made a bet. Should their son's first word be the former, John would have to bake her a souffle, and the latter, Clara would have him make him homemade ice-cream sandwiches.

It would be interesting to see her husband attempt to bake.

"Are you on mummy or daddy's side?"

Malcolm merely stared at her with a blank expression.

Oh well, at least he had stopped crying.

\-- 

John Smith slowed down the vehicle he was driving as he pulled the car into the driveway of his father's home.

Jeremy had contacted his son earlier during the day to inform him that he had missed his grandson dearly despite seeing him a few days ago, so John decided to pick him up.

The surgeon killed the engine before stepping out and shutting the door.

He trod to the front house, producing a set of keys from the pocket of his trousers.

"Dad?" he called, stepping inside.

"Upstairs," Jeremy answered. "I'm just getting ready."

John decided to go to the kitchen to look for snacks.

By the time his father was downstairs, he was halfway through to finishing a small bag of crisps he found in the kitchen counter.

"Ah, there you are," Jeremy said, smiling. "Would you mind helping me with something?"

John arched a brow, finishing the snack. "Please tell me you didn't buy Malcolm more toys," he muttered.

The elderly man merely shrugged. "I can't help it – the bag is in the living room," he stated. "And be sure to take out a tub of ice-cream from the freezer."

"Dad, we still have the previous one you gave us."

"I didn't say you and Clara couldn't share," Jeremy laughed. "I'll be waiting in the car."

John unlocked the vehicle while his father stepped outside as he retrieved Malcolm's presents. It had become a habit for the old man to bring presents for his grandson whenever he came to visit, and his visits were frequent, too, so Malcolm's toy collection expanded very quickly.

The surgeon finally stepped out of the house, one hand carrying a large red paper bag.

"Just how many toys did you get him this time?" John questioned as he got into the driver seat after placing the toys in the back.

"Two – there's a Lego set and a musical butterfly."

"I dread to think what you'll buy him for Christmas."

"An actual TARDIS if that exists," Jeremy chided.

John glanced at his father. Maybe it was a mistake to buy him a smartphone. The purpose was to allow him to Skype with Malcolm whenever he wasn't well enough to see him.

"I'm starting to regret buying you a smartphone," he grumbled as he drove off.

Jeremy merely grinned. "I managed to learn a thing or two from Clara."

Fifteen minutes later, they reached home and as soon as the two men stepped out of the vehicle, they heard wailing coming from the inside.

"Well, I guess he's still upset I left," John commented.

Jeremy didn't waste any time as he opened the back door and retrieved the paper bag. "It's a good thing his grandad is here," he said excitedly, suddenly gaining a bit more energy than before.

"Oh, thank God you're here," Clara sighed, holding Malcolm in her arms. Just when she thought he had calmed down, the boy started crying again.

"I was only gone for half an hour," John cooed, taking his son.

Malcolm was only sobbing by now as his father made silly faces.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

Clara collapsed on the sofa.

"Look who's here," her husband announced as Jeremy entered.

The baby's eyes lit up as he saw his grandfather and he laughed.

"Your grandad!" Jeremy exclaimed, setting the walking stick and paper bag aside. "How is my handsome grandson – have you been behaving?"

Once more, Malcolm cooed and smiled.

"Hi, Jeremy," Clara greeted, kissing his cheek.

"Clara, you look like you could rest for a while – I'll keep Malcolm company," he said softly. "I even got him some new toys and ice-cream!"

"Really?" his daughter-in-law laughed. "You don't have to buy him toys every time you visit."

"That's what I've been trying to tell him," John added.

"It's fine, go on you two, rest," Jeremy insisted as he sat down on the sofa, placing the baby on his lap. "Have you said your first word, mister?"

"We wish," Clara chuckled. "Be sure to let mummy win."

"Or daddy."

The parents were ignored as Malcolm had his eyes fixated on the new toy his grandfather got him.

"Behave yourself with grandad, Malcolm."

John draped an arm over Clara's shoulder as he guided her upstairs. "Let them have fun," he murmured. "We could have a bit of fun, too."

Clara playfully slapped his chest. "You'd have to buy me dinner first," she said coyly.

He bent down and kissed her softly. "Or you could make it up to me for calling me Basil again in your book."

Clara's new book had been released just three months ago, and as expected, it was a huge hit. Due to the success, she had started working on the fourth one just a few weeks ago.

"I like that name," she justified, entering the bedroom.

He still looked grumpy. Like father like son.

"Here," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his lips to hers in a seductive kiss. "That's what you'll get later tonight."

A wolfish grin was plastered on John's face.

"He said his first word!" they heard Jeremy exclaim from downstairs and immediately rushed back to the living room.

Malcolm was still seated on his grandfather's lap, a huge smile plastered on his face.

"What is it?" his mother asked. "He said 'mummy', right?"

"Daddy – da-da?" added his father.

Jeremy looked at the couple with a twinkle in his eyes. "Come on, Malcolm, say it again – say what you said to me."

The 6-month-old baby looked up at his grandad. "Gan-da."

"What?" John muttered quietly, not believing his ears. His wife, on the other hand, lifted Malcolm into her arms.

"What was that, darling?"

"Gan-da!"

"You said your first word!" the father exclaimed, not caring that it wasn't 'daddy' or 'mummy'.

"This is wonderful!" Clara said, laughing as she pinched the baby's rosy cheeks.

Jeremy then cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "It's actually my fault that his first word isn't either of you," he confessed sheepishly. "I was trying to get him to say 'mummy' and 'daddy', but then I said "Oh, you're teasing your grandad, aren't you?"."

"So wait, that means both of us lost the bet," John pointed out.

"Yep," Clara agreed before glancing at Malcolm. "Did you do it on purpose, so you'd get ice-cream and chocolate souffle?"

He merely cooed at the mention of ice-cream, prompting everyone to laugh.

"You're one smart cookie, aren't you?" John commented, carrying the boy in his arms and heading to the kitchen. "Would you like some ice-cream?"

"I think he got it from both of you," Jeremy whispered, loud enough for his daughter-in-law to hear.

Clara glanced at her father-in-law, beaming at him before she went to the kitchen to prevent John from opening the new tub. They still have the old one.

"Dad, would you like some?" John asked. "A small scoop doesn't hurt anybody."

"Sure."

He handed Malcolm back to Clara and took several bowls from the cupboard.

To think that if he had met his father years ago, they wouldn't be here right now, spending time together as a family. Hell, if he hadn't met Clara, he didn't think he would be this content with his life. In the end, he supposed that everyone deserves a second chance and a happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing support! I hope you had a wonderful time reading this fic, just as I had writing it. The next story will be titled "From Hate to Love" which should be released either at the end of the year or the beginning of the new year. Hope to see you then!


End file.
